Excerpt - The Horizon's Edge

“You’re getting better,” Kiera said with a smile.

“I’m trying,” he replied, his eyes fixed on the stars outside his viewport.

Of course, Adam knew that the brightest of them weren’t stars but were the planets of Aldebaran as the rail hummed its way counter spinward around AGS. He tried to focus on them and not the growing sickness in his stomach. It was an effect many people felt on the magnetic rail that circled the station as its acceleration fought against the artificial gravity that simulated Earth’s.

The other option was less than preferable. If the rail traveled spinward, its occupants would be subjected to gravity well beyond Earth normal as it accelerated to two hundred kilometers per hour.

A gentle, warm pressure covered the back of his hand as Kiera placed hers over it. She said, “I meant your dancing.”

“Oh, I… I thought you meant…” Adam’s voice trailed off as he turned back to face her.

“I know,” she whispered, leaning over to give him a tender kiss on the cheek. “Don’t worry. You’ll be back out there soon.”

“We’ll be out there soon,” Adam said. He turned his hand over and clasped hers. He lifted the back of her hand to his mouth and gave it a kiss while meeting her eyes with his.

“We will,” she agreed with raised eyebrows before venturing, “if you’re sure that’s what you want.”

“Of course, it’s what I want.”

“You could go back to the service,” Kiera suggested. “I’m sure they’d reinstate your commission.”

“I’m not going back to the service,” Adam said, turning to again look out into space. “Half of them don’t want me there anyway. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to go with me. Hey, wait a minute.”

“Huh?”

Adam turned back to face her. He studied her for a long moment, taking in every detail of her face and eyes to be sure before he asked, “You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

“Of course not,” Kiera said, her brow furrowing for a millisecond.

“Just making sure.”

In their conversation, Adam had forgotten about how his stomach felt. The knots had eased and released, and he didn’t even notice the change in gravity as the rail slowed in its approach to the eastern lock. He realized then that had been her plan all along. Kiera was so good at that – redirecting and engaging during other people’s moments of discomfort. It was one of her gifts.

Weightlessness took over for a moment as the rail’s deceleration perfectly matched and countered the spinward acceleration of the station, countering all gravity. Then it took hold again, gently amplifying while the rail pulled into the eastern lock.

A feminine A.I. voice announced, “Arrival at Eastern Lock in thirty nine seconds. Please remain seated and belted.”

“You’re sneaky,” Adam accused with raised eyebrows.

“Took your mind off it, didn’t I?” she said, beaming an enrapturing smile at him.

“You did. There is something I want to talk about, though,” he said.

The rail came to a halt, the gentle hum of the magnetic drive units reverberating through the hull. Metallic thumps sounded overhead as the stabilizer clamps set, followed by the soft thud of docking collars extending to connect the car to the eastern lock. There was a hiss of air as the doors opened, and everyone inside reflexively swallowed to even the pressure in their ears.

“Oh, yeah? Should I be worried?” Kiera asked, propping a single eyebrow.

Adam smiled as he stifled a chuckle, puffing a hint of air through his nose. He answered, “No, of course not, but it’s something that’s been on my mind.”

“Okay.”

“Not here,” Adam said, “back at our quarters.”

“Ooo, suspense,” Kiera replied, and she bounced her eyebrows twice, causing him to laugh.

They waited for most of the crowd to clear, unbuckling the seat harnesses as a cross section of Aldebaran Gateway Station’s populace waddled like penguins toward the airlock. There was a trio of drunken SACA lieutenants, likely enjoying their last night of freedom before shipping out, mechanics and technicians, and plenty of people who just looked like people. Maybe they were out to eat or dancing like Adam and Kiera, or perhaps they were coming hom from a long day’s work on the far side of the station. Maybe they were on their way.

A pair of uniformed security patrolmen headed from the rear of the railcar, conducting a quick sweep of the railcar before they let the next round of passengers on board. They were the typical sort – two nondescript uniformed guys, one white and the other Chinese, with standard issue M2074A pistols on their hips.

It was the guy leading them that Adam took more notice of. He was a SACA marine wearing Sergeant echelons on his shoulders, and he looked the part. Thick, bull neck atop wide shoulders and a thick torso. He carried one of the new model assault rifles, and the beady eyes under his crew cut red hair settled on Adam and Keira as he approached. There was a particular look in those eyes, an automatic suspicion.

Adam whispered, “Time to go.”

He stood from his seat and offered his hand to her. She took it and rose with her ever present grace. It seemed she always floated through every movement, except for that one time he agreed to play tennis with her. She kicked his ass, and he was pretty sure she went easy on him. Keira flashed the advancing men a million Sing smile as she entered the aisle between rows to head for the door.

Adam had just moved to follow when the sergeant called, “Excuse me.”

He controlled every impulse he had, halting halfway into the aisle while Kiera turned back. That ancient human acute stress response kicked in immediately, and his instincts went from confront the men physically to try and flee as quickly as possible. Of course, his intellect won out over both, and Adam suppressed a sigh as he opted for cooperation.

“Yes, sir?” he replied. Kiera kept her smile, but her deep brown eyes reflected worry.

“Idents,” the sergeant demanded as he and the security personnel stopped two feet away.

“Yes, sir,” Adam said, and both he and Kiera presented their wrists.

“Why don’t either of you have ULDs?” the marine asked as he scanned her chip first. “Dr. Kiera Berg. Medical or PhD?”

“Both. We just got here from Mars last week,” Kiera explained, keeping her smile.

“After the bombing, SACA is recommending all citizens get Universal Link Devices. It won’t be long before it’s required,” he said, his voice holding a dire warning as he scanned Adam’s ident. His eyes widened for a moment. “Commander Adam Al-Farsi. I apologize, sir.”

“For what, sergeant? You were just doing your job,” Adam replied, and he withheld an acidic follow up statement about profiling only through enormous discipline and willpower. “Besides, it’s not like I’m in uniform.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I appreciate your understanding.

“Security heavy since the bombing, sergeant?” Kiera asked, her glowing smile unwavering.

“Uh, yes, ma’am. Nightly sweeps of the rail and thorough ident checks on all incoming vessels. You, uh, should consider getting a ULD. You’d be less likely to be stopped for ident.”

“We’ll take it under advisement,” Adam nodded.

But Kiera interjected, “He may take it under advisement, but I don’t care for anyone having direct access to my brain whenever they want it.”

The sergeant’s face darkened, but he said nothing. The other two security personnel pretended to look around the railcar at nothing at all. The bombing of AGS station had given SACA all the impetus they needed to start infringing civil liberties. The board had even put the station under the command of Vice Admiral Zheng Huojin of Special Fleet Operations. The man they called The Iron Chinaman had wasted no time declaring martial law, and it was with immense regret he lifted it a month later. Though, the security and marines choosing supposedly random citizens to search conspicuously remained.

“Good night, sergeant,” Adam said.

The sergeant stiffened, saluted, and replied, “Good night, sir!”

After they walked up the aisle toward the airlock door and then through the connecting coupler into the eastern lock, Kiera whispered, “Why didn’t you mention you’ve resigned.”

“Well, it hasn’t gone through all channels yet, so it’s not official. Besides, I figured it would be easier if he thought I was still a senior officer. Takes my… ethnicity out of the equation,” Adam said, and then he added, “Most of the time.”

They made it the half kilometer to their assigned quarters without further molestation. In general, the station was quieting down for the night, not that night or day really had much meaning on a ten kilometer wide circular station that orbited three hundred million kilometers away from a star some sixty five light years from Earth. Still, nearly a third of the thirty thousand inhabitants of AGS had either recently arrived from a planet with day-night cycles or were heading to one soon. Either way, the station maintained a degree of normalcy in that regard.

Adam scanned the ident chip in his wrist, and their door slid open. Their quarters were nicer than most, a luxury afforded to a man who still had an officer’s rank in SACA. Instead of the standard two by three meter bedroom/living room combo and the attached two by one meter kitchen/bathroom, they had a downright cozy living room complete with sofa, loveseat, and a holo-terminal. A bar separated it from the galley kitchen, and a separate bedroom with adjoining bathroom attached to the backside of the suite. It was almost like having a real apartment on Mars or one of the older, more prosperous colonies.

The holo-terminal blinked red.

“We’ve got a message,” Keira said as she moved toward the terminal.

Adam caught her hand as it trailed behind her, pulling her to a stop. “Hold on a second.”

“Oh, this is really important,” she teased as she turned toward him.

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

“All right,” she nodded, her tone discarding any humor.

Adam searched the depths of her eyes for several seconds before looking down. He took each of her hands in his. They were so easy to hold, soft, and yet, he felt the callouses on her palms from her tennis racquet. They were capable of such soft tenderness but also immense strength when they needed it. Just like her.

He pulled in a deep breath, steeling his will before his nerves got the better of him. Adam Al-Farsi looked back at his girlfriend and said, “We’re about to buy a ship and go off by ourselves into space. I want to marry you before we leave.”

Kiera tipped her head to the left, and her face shifted, displaying… what? Disappointment? Resignation? He wasn’t sure.

“We talked about this,” she said.

“I know. I know.”

“And I told you, I don’t need some entry in a SACA database to tell me we’re committed to each other. We’re a unit. One. Together.”

“I agree,” Adam said, raising his eyebrows.

“Then why are we talking about this?” Kiera asked.

“Because,” Adam almost whispered, “Dr. Kiera Berg, you’re an amazing woman, and I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t come into my life when you did. I don’t really get it, but you showed up on that rail one day, saw me, and said, ‘That hot mess is going to be mine.’ I didn’t know where my life was going. I was in the middle of the trial. I didn’t know if I was going to be thrown in prison, be stripped of rank, or if anything at all was going to happen. You listened to me. You let me cry. You helped me understand it wasn’t my fault. You’re… still helping me. I love you.”

“I love you too, babe,” she said, her resolve melting.

“I know we don’t need SACA’s official stamp on our relationship. That’s not what it’s about. This is purely about me.”

“You need this, don’t you?” she asked.

“I do. I need it… for my parents. If there is a God in Heaven, I need my mother, and my father, to see it.”

She held is gaze for several long seconds, and then she blinked a few times, her eyelashes flitting like frenetic butterfly wings for just a moment. A smile touched the corners of her mouth, and she said, “All right. I’ll marry you. Before we ship out.”

“Really?” Adam asked, bouncing.

“Yeah.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up off the floor. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and their mouths pressed together, stifling laughs of joy. He held her in that place and would have held her for eternity despite the complaints of his muscles hefting her athletic body.

“All right, now put me down and get us some wine.”

“Yes, dear,” Adam said in that mocking tone husbands used with their wives in old vids.

“I’m going to check this message. I’m sure it’s about the loan.”

She glided into the living area while Adam half stumbled into the kitchen. His feet, like the rest of him, were a bizarre mix of numb and giddy with her agreement of marriage. It was a strange effect, because nothing had changed between the two of them. Except he’d laid it on the line, and she said yes!

He bent over to open the Icyon and peered inside. It was a space age, next generation sounding name for a compact and highly efficient refrigerator. The A.I. inside the unit recognized each and every item inside of it and optimized the temperature in six distinct zones to ensure the best combination of freshness and taste. Adam rolled his eyes as he retrieved the bottle of Aldebaran Red, 2122.

“Uh, Commander Al-Farsi and Ms. Berg, this is Kyle Fuller down at ISC, Limited,” said a hollow sounding voice.

Adam glanced over his shoulder to see a holographic projection of the salesman. He poured wine into a pair of plastic glasses patterned after 20th Century champagne glasses, ignoring the obvious apologetic expression on the man’s projected face.

Holographic Kyle Fuller continued, “So, it’s great that you can commit fifty million Sings to your initial down payment toward this new Beagle III class vessel, and the removal or limitation on the ship’s advance A.I. systems – while not recommended – is not a problem. However, I regret to inform you that your loan of four hundred ninety two million Sings – including processing costs, SACA taxes, and spaceship registration – has not been approved at this time. While we understand that you have steady income from SACA – and thank you for your service, by the way – that income even compounded with the extreme interest from time dilation is not enough to handle the monthly payment of almost a half billion Sings at one point nine percent. If you had signed contracts from SACA or perhaps a third party entity showing payment for services rendered with your new vessel, we should be able to move forward. Thank you and don’t hesitate to call me with additional questions.”

Adam stood facing the kitchen counter, his back to the living room. He stared down into the wine glasses, his head hanging limply and his mind blank. What now?

“He damn well knows we can’t get the contracts without the ship!” Kiera shouted at the frozen image of Kyle Fuller. “What the Hell kind of system is that? You can’t get the loan without the contracts, but you can’t get the contracts without the ship! I’m going to call him first thing tomorrow -”

“It’s not his fault,” Adam said, shaking his head. He picked up the wine glasses, turned, and made his way back to the living area.

“It’s bullshit,” she spat.

He could almost see the anger radiating off her, distorting the view of the room like a heatwave. Honestly, Adam found it kind of sexy.

“We’ll figure something out,” he said, handing her one of the wine glasses. “Let’s not worry about it for now. I just want to be with my fiancée.”

“All right,” Kiera said. She flashed a smile, but she was still steaming. He could see it in her eyes. “You want to watch something?”

“Whatever you want.”

“How about the 2020 Top Seed Open in Lexington, Kentucky?”

“More tennis?” Adam asked, lifting his eyebrows.

“It’s the last time Venus and Serena Williams played against each other,” Kiera explained, and her eyes narrowed a bit at his expression. “Hey, you said whatever I want.”

Adam smiled, nodded, and said, “Yeah, yeah I did.”

“Alert. Alert.”

“What is it, Cassie?” Adam asked, straightening in his chair as he set down his reading tablet.

“Alert,” Cassie, the Continuous Autonomous Ship’s Systems Intelligence Entity, repeated. Her soft, soothing voice was at odds with the word. “Unknown singularity crossing our singularity plane.”

“What?” he asked, hopping up. “Explain.”

“Insufficient time. Collision in seven point six seconds. Ejecting Ark module.”

“What? No, wait!”

“Brace yourself.”

Metal clanged throughout the ship as clamp and coupling systems released. Vapor and gas obscured several viewports as water trapped within the various systems now exposed to the vacuum of space rushed out and boiled instantly. The vapor then froze into millions of miniscule ice crystals, the ship’s lights illuminating a billowing, spreading wall of scintillating light.

“Disengaging Steingartner drive system.”

“Override! Override!” Adam shouted.

“Engaging thrusters,” Cassie said, ignoring him with all the serene calm of a light spring rain.

“Override, Goddammit!” Adam repeated, and he was thrown to the deck as the ship’s conventional engines started their burn. He clambered to his feet and struggled over to one of the viewports.

He saw it! He shouldn’t be able to, and he certainly didn’t the first time this happened. Yet there it was – a rogue singularity – a blinding, white hot black hole of infinite mass in an infinitely small space. Adam watched as the Ark module was pulled away. In a flash of elongated fantastic light, it was stretched by the singularity and ripped away from him with all three thousand colonists aboard.

Again, it was impossible, but the last thing he saw of the Ark was dozens of faces staring out of the module’s viewports in horror at their doom. But a few of them glared back at him, their eyes full of searing hatred for the man that didn’t save them.

Adam sat upright in bed with a gasp. His heart pounded, a painful thud against the wall of his sternum, and he wasn’t sure it would hold against the onslaught. The sheets below him were soak, and his body was slick with sweat. The heat of the nightmare passed, leaving him to shiver in the cool of the bedroom. At least he hadn’t pissed himself.

A warmth covered his left hand, and he looked down to find Kiera’s over his. His gaze found hers as she laid on her side unmoving. She said nothing. She didn’t have to. Her eyes showed him everything he needed. Their soulful, hazel depths showed her concern and worry plainly, but there was also love, understanding, and acceptance.

As his heart started to slow, Adam gave her wistful smile and said, “Sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she replied. He leaned down to kiss her, and as his lips brushed hers, the terminal chimed from the living room. “But maybe you should go answer that.”

“Whoever it is can fuck off for calling us this early.”

“Go on,” Kiera said, pushing him away playfully. “Go see who it is or at least go find us breakfast.”

“No freeze dried rations today?”

“No, I want something hot and greasy.”

“Yes, Mrs. Berg-Al-Farsi,” Adam said, and he pulled away to extricate his legs from the sheets.

“We may have to work on the name a little,” Kiera sighed, and she watched with interest as he stood naked from the bed. “Nice view.”

“You like that?”

“You know I do,” she grinned, and then she nodded toward the living room and the insistent chiming of their terminal, “but you may want to put pants on before answering that. Just in case it’s a holo-call.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Adam returned in mock resignation.

He retrieved a discarded pair of lounge pants from the cold floor and struggled into them as he exited the bedroom. A sudden loss of balance and subsequent near face planting elicited a heart chuckle from Kiera. Adam ignored it as he finally got his legs in and pulled them up.

In the living area, the terminal chimed with an interactive holographic display that said, “Incoming call. Curtis Stillwell.” Adam tilted his head to the side and then backward as he considered it. He reached toward the display and pressed the button declining the call. He couldn’t think of any reason why Curtis Stillwell would be calling him of all people or why he’d want to talk to the man.

He returned to the bedroom to hunt for a shirt.

“Who was it?” Kiera asked.

“Don’t know. Didn’t get there in time,” Adam said, pulling a passably clean SACA emblem t-shirt from the mound of dirty clothes. “I’m gonna go get your breakfast.”

“You don’t have to. It’s expensive.”

Adam smiled back at her and said, “I’ve got fifty million Sings in the bank, remember? I think I can afford a five hundred Sing breakfast this one time. Omelet with green peppers, mushrooms, cheddar, salt, and pepper. Three pieces of crispy bacon, a sausage patty, and a piece of marble rye toast. All real, right?”

“You’re so nice to me,” Kiera cooed.

“Hey, you earned it.”

“Dick,” she replied, but the playful light in her eyes showed she enjoyed the banter.

Adam pulled the shirt over his head, slipped on a pair of shoes, and left their quarters. His destination was about a kilometer’s walk away on the main promenade, a place called Kai’s that would have once been referred to as a diner or a greasy spoon. He joined the end of the line of people waiting to order. It amazed him how busy this place was. How many people could afford to spend on one meal what cost most laborers a week’s worth of wages?

A man in a business suit at the front of the line completed his order and stepped off to the side to wait. Everyone in line took a step forward. Adam had a sense that someone was standing beside him, but he politely kept his eyes forward.

“Good Morning, Commander Al-Farsi,” the man said, his voice crisp and strong.

Adam turned toward Curtis Stillwell, noting the perfectly tailored suit that looked like it had been in style a hundred years ago. He leaned forward on a mahogany cane with an ivory handle, antique perhaps but maybe a modern reproduction. Adam wondered if the cane was necessary, and decided it probably was considering Mr. Stillwell had been born before the end of the 20th Century. Adam suppressed a blurting laugh at the idea that Stillwell didn’t look a day over eighty, an obvious effect of time dilation while travelling in Steingartner space.

“I particularly enjoy Kai’s,” Stillwell said, “it reminds of a time when things were simpler.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Adam replied.

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t. You left Earth with your mother in… what? 2152?”

“Something like that. Can I help you, Mr. Stillwell?”

“I think we can help each other, Commander,” Stillwell said.

“I’ve resigned my commission.”

“Indeed. You know, you’re a hard man to reach,” Stillwell said as they stepped forward again. “I’m rather dismayed that I had to place a holo-call into a terminal. Why haven’t you availed yourself of a Universal Link Device?”

“I’d rather not have something linked directly into my brain like that.”

“Oh, but the advantages, Commander Al-Farsi. Think about it. Instantaneous network connectivity. I can literally think a message or make a call to anyone with a thought. Information download! Spend hours and hours reading a book or watching a vid-show? I can download it as fast as the network can carry it. Scientific data, papers, education! How would Ms. Berg like to add another half dozen doctorates to her resume in the space of fifteen minutes?”

“None of the work and all of the payoff,” Adam mused, and then he shook his head. “No, I don’t think I’m interested.”

“It has revolutionized on the job training, as well. Even highly technical jobs that used to take weeks or months of training and apprenticeship now can be taught in minutes. Surely, you can see the value in so much efficiency, as short as our lives are.”

“Are they so short? Aren’t you over a hundred years old, sir?”

“One hundred thirty three this year to be exact,” Stilwell nodded.

“What about retention? Can the brain really keep all of that knowledge and information?” Adam asked.

“Seems like it,” Stillwell said as they stepped forward again, “though, as with all things, if you don’t use it, you lose it.”

“That’s a new one,” Adam replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Actually, it’s a very old one,” Stillwell disagreed. He placed a hand on Adam’s arm and said, “Adam.”

They turned to face each other, and Adam got a good look at the ancient being that was Curtis Stillwell. Of course, Stillwell had been there during the depositions and tribunal about what happened, but he’d always been on the far side of the room, cloaked in shadow. In that environment, the man had looked like a decrepit methuselah, but now Adam saw the strength and intelligence in his eyes.

This was one of the oldest living men in the galaxy. It was he who funded the work of Steingartner, inventing the singularity drive system. It was he who somehow brought together the old powers of the United States, China, and a few others to form SACA and soar into the stars as the people of Earth bathed themselves in nuclear fire.

“You want to go back out there,” Stillwell said. “I know you tried to buy a ship. You’ve been denied for the loan because you don’t have contracts.”

“And I can’t get contracts without a ship,” Adam said, repeating the conundrum.

“I can get you a SACA contract. You’ll get your loan. The payments will be made out of the contract with the balance going to your account. You’ll get back out there,” Stillwell said.

They stepped forward again, and only a young couple stood between Adam and placing his breakfast order. They were very young, couldn’t have been over twenty three. A Chinese man wore a SACA jumpsuit with a Lieutenant’s insignia on the collar, and the woman stood next to him in a pretty pink mini-dress. She looked at him with that special light in her eyes while he ordered their food, as if he were her everything. Adam hoped he was permanently stationed at AGS or maybe even one of the nearby colonies. Once the young officer went out on his first deep space tour, he’d come home to a woman thirty or forty years his senior. If she were even still alive…

“And what does this cost? What could I possibly do for the great Curtis Stillwell?” Adam asked, failing to keep the disdain from his voice as he turned to face forward again.

“You know they’re still alive, Adam,” Stillwell said. Adam stiffened, and Stillwell pushed on, “All those people are still alive, trapped in the event horizon of that rogue singularity. My granddaughter, my last blood relation, is still alive on that ship, Adam, and I want you to go get her.”

Adam had turned his head as Stillwell talked. He didn’t even realize he’d done it, and yet he stared at the old man as a single tear ran down his cheek. Stillwell stepped forward as the young couple moved away to wait for their order, and all Adam could do was stare at him.

Kai, a bear of a man in a greasy white apron, stood behind the counter. He saw Stillwell and beamed, “Mr. Stillwell! So nice to see you. How are you, sir?”

“I’m doing well, Kai. Thank you so much,” Stillwell said with a nod as he leaned forward on his cane.

“Would you like your usual?”

“Yes, please,” Stillwell replied, and he nodded toward Adam, “and whatever Mr. Al-Farsi wants.”