Cosmosis

Brackish

(Starspeak)

I knew the lead wouldn’t pan out. I could just taste it. Mavriste had stumbled across the information too easily, just written in the manifest, nod even hidden or coded. By all means, container ‘227- Kue’ should have been empty.

The fact that it wasn’t was shock enough, but the fact that its contents weren’t junk was the real surprise.

“It’s…an alien sarcophagus alright,” Jordan said.

I ran my fingers over the black metal. It took every ounce of self-control to master the shiver that went through me.

“[Is it…one of ours?]” she asked. I was surprised she didn’t already know.

But maybe I shouldn’t have been. I could count the number of times I’d seen the coffins outside an A-ship. Jordan had spent most of a year aboard hers. By all means, she should have been more familiar with the coffins than I.

Exposure came in different forms. Sure, she’d spent thousands of more hours close to the coffins, but most of that time was subsistence. Just…milling about inside the ships, wondering what was going on. The coffins and all their bad memories would fade just from the sheer routine that would have built up.

But not me. Every second of exposure I had to these coffins was pure agony, one way or another. I knew the coffins like I knew fire should be feared: painfully.

And this was one of our coffins.

“No doubt about it,” I whispered.

“So where’s the human that should be inside it?” she asked.

That was the rub.

Like the container itself, if the coffin had only been empty, it would have made more sense. But within the coffin actually was a corpse, or part of one, at least.

Bones nestled into foam molds lined the coffin. But they weren’t human bones, no. In fact, it was very plainly half of a Vorak skeleton arranged inside it. Making the scene even stranger were the incomplete sections of the skeleton.

Plenty of bones were missing. Most of the right arm and leg for starters, but that didn’t account for all the missing pieces. Certain bones were visibly incomplete. Not broken, but half-formed.

The right half of the skull was missing, but the bifurcation in the skull wasn’t from a break or impact. Instead, it was all square bits, seemingly filed down to a myriad of right-angles, squares and cuboids ran along the bone line like digital camo. It was the same way for the rest of the incomplete bones, cubic formations seemingly filed into the ends.

But every Adept in the room knew they weren’t filed down. No, the opposite. The bones had formed this way. The cubic material pattern was a well-known one among Adept the studied varieties of materialization process.

These bones bore all the hallmarks of being Adept made. But then why were they incomplete? Had the Adept been interrupted halfway through? What was their lifespan if they were still here to be discovered? More mystifying, what was their purpose?

Even more puzzling, they didn’t feel Adept made. Jordan, Nai, and I had all pushed our cascades into the bones as painstakingly as possible trying to sniff out even the faintest hint of exotic material.

Nothing.

Mavriste found the same. If we were to bring Macoru up from the commandeered pirate submarine, I had no doubt she would turn up the same result.

So either there was an Adept making bones so well that some of the most skilled Adepts alive couldn’t tell, or someone had gone through a very elaborate process to make real bones look fake.

I wasn’t sure how much to treat this as actual crime scene. Vorak forensic science existed, and without knowing anything concrete about it, my gut said it was probably pretty good. The Vorak had material science down to an artform. Morphology and little traces of evidence surely didn’t fall far from that tree.

So ultimately I put the container in Agent Mashoj’s hands. They’d been a reliable contact so far and better about communicating than Agent Avi had been. Given what Mavriste had to say about Pudiligsto authorities, I was beginning to think we might have lucked out with them. But they’d come on Agent Avi’s recommendation—an outsider.

With some assurances that the coffin itself would be released to the Flotilla’s care once the bones were processed, I was officially more interested in the manifest that originally pointed it out. Because in addition to the cargo’s description, it also had a destination.

Stiragu Island.

It was far down our list of possible delivery locations. Very remote. So far outside the orbital drop sites, the only reason we’d included it was to be thorough because there was a remote chance that ocean currents could carry something to its shores…but only if it somehow missed seven other far larger islands.

“What if we’re right by accident?” Jordan suggested. “We thought it could only get there by floating on the tides. But there is the obvious alternative.”

“No nature involved,” I nodded. “Well, I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. How far out of our way is it?”

“Far,” Nai said. “We have enough food and water on the police boat, but…”

“No way in the six dark seas are we going all the way to Stiragu Island,” Mashoj snorted. “Sorry. I like you all, but not that much.”

“Come on, is it really that far?” I asked. “It’s like, what, a day there, two days back?”

“They’re not objecting because of the distance,” Mavriste said. But he gave the agent a second glance. “Okay, well maybe not just because of the distance. Stiragu Island has its own reputation even stranger than my least favorite city in this hemisphere.”

“Well don’t just leave us non-locals in suspense,” I said, rolling my eyes.

Mavriste glanced at Mashoj, his eyes telling it all. ‘They should hear it from you’, was written all over his face.

“The whole island is taken over by a cult,” Mashoj said bluntly.

I raised my eyebrows.

“Cult?”

“A cult cult? Or just a cult?” Jordan added.

“The former,” Mavriste confirmed. “I can attest to that firsthand.”

It was Mashoj’s turn to look shocked.

“You’ve been?”

“The cult is built around individual strength and worthiness in all forms,” Mavriste said. “There’s a bit of a story exactly how we got into contact, but they invited me and my sister to have…well, they wanted a religious debate.”

“I’m a little hung up on the part where you somehow left alive,” the agent said.

“I trounced the first hopeful debater, and they took exception to that. But I fought off a dozen of them and then just pretended like it was all an expected part of the debate,” Mavriste puffed up proudly. “Then a second person actually wanted to debate more, we went back and forth, and eventually they just all laughed it off and we were allowed to leave in peace. That was…three years ago? Since then we’ve done the occasional food delivery to their island, but little more. I’m sure they’d remember me though.”

“Are you volunteering for an introduction?” I asked. “It would be hard to understate how badly I want to find this corpse.”

“Can’t we just call?” Nai asked. “Surely they have radios on the island.”

“They do, but an unannounced visit in person would be much better received. They respect power, see? And power need not announce it’s approach, merely state its arrival.”

“I’d like to reiterate that neither this container ship, nor my police boat are going to Stiragu,” Mashoj said. “For any number of reasons, not the least of which is the dozens of live prisoners aboard this vessel and the gaping hull rupture in the other.”

I turned to Mavriste.

“So are you volunteering to take us?” I asked.

“No,” he said simply. “But I’ll volunteer to take you.”

“Come again?” Nai said threateningly. She stood up straight from aa comfortable lean, not truly hostile yet, but definitely heading that way.

“I don’t go anywhere without my emotional support Adepts,” I said.

“Nothing says peace of mind like the thrice drowned Warlock, eh?” Mavriste chuckled.

“I didn’t hear that name,” Mashoj stated to no one in particular.

“On a more serious note, it’s a standing Flotilla policy,” I explained. “No one goes anywhere alone. Especially not on Kraknor of all places.”

“You wouldn’t be alone,” he shrugged. “I’d be there too.”

“Wait, just us?” I asked. “Not even the rest of your marines?”

“It’s a cult,” he said, like it was obvious. “They’re not fond of large armed groups turning up on their doorstep.”

“Three isn’t such a large difference from two,” Nai pointed out. “Why couldn’t I come along?”

“Because while I might have interacted amicably in the past with these rak, I am under no illusions about their positions and doctrines,” he explained. “You are Farnata and therefore would be shot on sight.”

“Just who are these [assholes]?” I frowned.

“They are…not unrelated to the group that attempted to claim responsibility for Faranta’s Razing,” Mavriste said delicately.

“Not unrelated?”

Nai was practically boiling. For the slightest fraction of a second, it looked like she glanced my way, checking with me about exactly how much rage she ought to be feeling or showing.

Except I didn’t have even the faintest inclination to rein her in.

“I’d elaborate fast if I were you,” I said, staring Mavriste in the eye.

“I can’t,” he said honestly. “I don’t know more than that. Only interacted with them a handful of times.”

Mashoj was on the verge of panic, and while I certainly wasn’t going to do anything to stop Nai, I could understand why they wanted to keep things peaceful.

“If it’s any consolation, I understand the relation to be quite literal: as in blood relatives of some of those involved,” they said, trying to pacify Nai. “Pudiligsto Coast Guard Intelligence keeps a file on them and I understand they’re a different breed of supremacist.”

“But they’d still shoot me on sight?” she scoffed.

“If my read on their philosophy is correct, they would consider you something of an invader…but also possibly shameful for abandoning your own people. If you’re here instead of putting your strength toward some goal on behalf of your own people…they would assume the worst of you, is my point.”

“But not of Caleb?”

“He’s weirder,” Mavriste explained simply. “They’ll be more curious about him.”

“Moot point,” I said. “The terms of Nai’s loan to the Flotilla are completely unambiguous. She guards humans. I’m not going alone.”

“Is that final?”

I frowned.

Truth was, I was tempted. This was a promising lead, but then so was the coffin itself. Whoever the skeleton belonged to had to be involved in some way. There could be human DNA traces inside…we weren’t sunk.

And yet…

I really wanted to go see if this cult had somehow gotten their grubby paws on a human corpse.

“Yes, I’m afraid it is.”

Mavriste deflated a bit, and his expression turned inward. He was weighing something.

“…What if I personally guarantee your safety?” he asked.

I traded a knowing look with Nai. She’d know how badly I wanted this.

“The human abductees were stolen from their home planet,” Nai said. “Every single one of them lives with an inescapable truth looming over their heads that will linger for the rest of their lives: there is no way to guarantee safety.”

“Stakes then,” Mavriste elaborated. “I swear to protect Caleb Hane to the utmost of my ability, and should I fail and he perish, I will take up his cause myself. I won’t set foot on Kraknor again until his corpse, all the others, and every human abductee returns to the human homeworld.”

…

What.

What could you even say to that?

Nai stared down the Vorak, and I saw he’d gotten her. Because while the declaration was impulsive, brash, unreasonable to anyone…Mavriste was the kind of person who meant what they said, however seemingly impulsive, brash, and unreasonable.

“…I believe you,” Nai said.

So did I.

“But that doesn’t mean we’re agreeing just yet,” she added. “”

“” Jordan grumbled.

I suggested.

I gave Mavriste a suspicious eye as I did my best to hide my superconnector spinning up. The Missionary Marine was so intrigued by what we were doing, he looked like he might drool.

“” I said, sending a friendly psionic warning, just something enough to rattle his firewall.

He flinched back from the psychic weapon, but did not look deterred. Jordan took the opportunity to sit down on the large ottoman Nai materialized for her, and she began meditating her way into a state of almost-unconsciousness that would let her access the Flotilla’s pairs of pearls.

Tasser and Johnny were the first ones to pick up.

Johnny said.

I answered.

Tasser noted.

Nai confirmed.

Jordan said.

Madeline said.

Jordan joked.

Johnny reported.

Serral asked.

Johnny explained.

Jordan interrupted.

Madeline said,

Serral said.

Madeline said.

Serral said.

Nai said frostily.

Serral said.

I said.

he said.

I’d heard. I had to ignore the part of me that wanted to fly back and start tearing into that development. But Serral and Jordan had both made it clear that it wasn’t time sensitive.

It wasn’t the first time I had to prioritize certain Flotilla work, but it was the first time I was doing it with a vacation—even one in name only—in the mix.

I said.

Drat. That made this lead more credible. CENSOR and ENVY had shown attention to humans and our corpses in the past. It wouldn’t be out of character for one of them to keep eyes on a corpse.

I said.

I said.

Jordan reminded me.

Serral asked.

I said.

<[Fuck no,]> Madeline frowned.

At the same time, Serral gave an impressed hum. “Hmm…I’ve read up on these marines, Caleb. So understand my implication when I say I almost wonder if it would be worth it if you did die under those conditions.>

Nai said.

I said.

I said.

<…Besides, you’re on vacation,> Maddie added,

I rolled my eyes.

Madeline wasn’t the only one giving the idea credence though. Nai took a deep breath, centering herself and looking at the situation rationally.

<…Farnata baggage aside…> she began reluctantly, <…Serral’s probably right. I don’t think Mavriste’s better than me, but I think he’s certainly skilled enough to take on an island of cultists by himself. And that’s assuming you just sat back. You two would, in all likelihood, be fine.>

I acknowledged.

Nai was almost glum.

Nai said.

Johnny said.

Jordan asked.

Jordan said.

I added.

Johnny reported.

Serral asked.

she protested.

Serral replied.

Their pearls winked off.

<…Wow,> I said.

Nai suggested.

Tasser said.

Jordan kicked his pearl from the conference call personally.

Johnny said.

Jordan winked out their pearls and began rousing herself from the meditative pose.

“All done conferring?” Mavriste asked. “Come to a decision?”

I double checked with Nai and Jordan, just to be sure we were on the same page.

Two nods.

“Fine,” I said. “Just you and me. But I’m—”

“But you’re going to hold me to my promise, yes? Relax, I don’t make declarations like that in vain,” he said.

“When can we depart? I’m on vacation. I’m supposed to be working as little as possible,” I said.

“Not long at all,” Mavriste said. “Are you opposed to a little theft in the name of a good cause?”

“…Contextually, it’s possible,” I admitted.

“I ask because if we’re going to go to this island, we need a boat.”

Right. All four of the ones involved now were heading back to Pudiligsto.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well…when I was reading the manifest, I saw one of these containers was packed with a partially deconstructed sailboat,” he said with a mad grin.

I was not the only one who gaped at him.

A sailboat? Seriously?

“We’re on the edge of a hurricane and you want to take a sailboat out on the waters?”

“Sure. It’ll be fun,” he grinned.

I glared at Nai.

<…Okay, I might need to reevaluate your likelihood to survive,> she admitted.