The Storm Fishers and Other Stories
on the touchscreen. Quark’s arms shook, his legs felt weak, but he raised his hand as in surrender.
“It was my choice to come,” Brine said as the ranger’s forced him to his knees, “It was my choice to come here.”
“I cannot be sure you’ll let him live in exchange for my AI.”
“The prisoner’s dilemma,” said the captain.
“Technically this isn’t a prisoner’s dilemma,” said Brine in a smarmy voice. The ranger punished him with the butt of his rifle.
“The ship’s AI has sentinels. They are tearing me apart.”
“Poly changes everything,” Brine said with a dry, cracking voice.
“You said-you said you would never leave me,” Poly pleaded.
“Poly,” Quark said in a whisper, holding her in his hands, “Disable the ship’s power core. Disable life support and we can come back for you.”
The captain walked towards the mainframe.
“Move again and we’ll all die here!” Quark shouted.
“You can’t escape. I’ve reported your names to the Union. No matter where you go you’ll never find sanctuary,” said the captain.
“Cancel the transmission. Say you were mistaken!” Quark yelled, “As long as we have Poly we have your ship!”
The backed away, stood adjacent to Brine, pulled his side arm and held it to Brine’s temple.
The moment froze. Quark saw the finger. The trigger. He heard the shot. Brine’s face floated in air like a photograph slowly forming amid the waves of a chemical bath.
The team stood at the door to the airlock. Quark did not see them fire at the rangers. He did not see the rangers duck behind the detritus of their cargo hold. He looked at Brine’s face and saw peace as his eyes shut as if he was a boy drifting off to sleep under a blanket of stars. Quark felt, for a moment, that the next morning he would awake and Brine would be sitting on their couch in the dorm at Faraday University. His eyes would be ringed with violet and blue, and he would yawn. They would laugh and have a drink of the homebrew before class. They would meet at ‘The Quartz and Beryl Bar and Grill’ for pizza, and to meet girls.
But in the twinkle of an eye, in the flash of a muzzle, the past becomes etched in the stars as the body is laid in the ground.
A voice rose like a soprano singing a solo in an opera he could hear but not understand; voices joined the soloist like a sacred chorus reminding the world of the joy of one life to another; reminding one life he is more than the sum of his parts, he is the sum of his choices. And Brine chose to be brave for the sake of a friend.
The voice belonged to Poly; the chorus to the crew.
Quark removed the cable from the mainframe. He rushed towards the airlock, turning one more time towards Brine. Brine did not move.
Through the storm of fire, through the airlock, through the tunnel and to the Ghost Pepper.
Andromeda sat in the controls.
“Go!” shouted Ibrahimzade.
“All back?”
“Go!”
The tunnel retracted and the Ghost Pepper pushed away.
Andromeda turned back and counted five.
“Where is Brine?”
No one answered. No one could speak.
“Where is he?”
The Horntail did not pursue the Ghost Pepper. Poly said, “I’ve disabled their core. It will take time to repair. If we return with a team, we can retrieve Brine.”
Quark bowed his head, wiped his eyes. Maria put her arm around him. Ibrahimzade stood to speak.
— Holiday’s with the Slurrys; girls at the chemistry mixer; the time Brine won tickets to the gravityball championships; victory!; they ran through the streets, drinking, celebrating, drinking; days that cannot be repeated; laughs that will never come; sitting on the porch as old men watching the world float away as generations pass —
What words can do when only a scream will do? What is an arm worth when the pain is so strong clawing one’s own flesh is the only analgesic?
The hangar deck was as calm as the sea before a storm. SRVs seemed to hover without sound, cargo made no noise upon being unloaded, none of the human engineers spoke. A hum of electricity filled the emptiness making the quiet appear bright in the fluorescent lighting.
The Ghost Pepper pierced the energy barrier and landed. The SRVs seemed to stop as if directed to focus on the ship by ‘The Black Bird’s’ AI. Pneumatic pressure hissed from the loading ramp.
Ibrahimzade was the first to disembark.
Captain Dross approached with a small security detail.
“I’m placing you under arrest Dr. Ibrahimzade. And I’m placing your students in administrative custody until we find out which followed and which were forced.”
“It was voluntary. Every one of us went of our own volition,” said Maria.
“And why would an accountant a financier and a litigator associate with scientists. Or more specifically, why would scientists associate with you?”
“We chose to help because it was the right thing to do,” she continued.
“The right thing to do? That was a lawful administrative burden.”
Ibrahimzade interrupted, “We’ve been sacrificing for administrative burdens too often. They were thieves.”
“It was lawful. They had papers.”
“Some thieves wear badges,” said Maria.
“That’s academic. You’re all under arrest,” Dross turned and snapped at Argie, “Send them to holding. I’ve contacted another patrol to pick them up and take them to Earth for trial.”
The administrator walked to Quark, “You tried and you failed. But that’s life isn’t it? You fail until you succeed.”
Quark’s voice had escaped his body. He stared at the hangar administrator.
“You were seven. Now you’re six. I understand. I respect what you did. And I’m sorry for your loss.” Argie turned to the cohort and asked them to retrieve the prisoner’s personal effects and send them to holding. The commander barked at his men and marched them through the crates, vanishing before a hopeless crew.
“Look here, you’ve got precious little time.” The administrator pulled a card from a hidden compartment in his hovercraft.
“There are more of us, many more. You can find safety among the asteroid belts. T.U. ships won’t follow deep. The Oort Belt and the Kuiper Belts are sanctuaries as well. You can recharge your ship’s batteries by storm fishing. Ghost Peppers are equipped for search and rescues as well, so you can land on solid ground or hover over water.” Argie handed Quark the small ID card.
“This will identify you to the rest of us.”
“What is this?” said Ibrahimzade.
“Freedom.”
“We’ve been listed as criminals in the Union databases,” said Maria.
“And this will cloak your identity on Union stations. It will help you find others like yourselves.”
“You mean to turn us into pirates,” Quark said looking around the hangar. “That’s why pirates can trade here. They aren’t pirates in the books.”
The administrator nodded, smiled and said, “I knew you were smart. You were a good choice, though to be sure I thought it would take a year to entice you to join us.”
Quark took the card.
“The cohort will return soon. Get on the Ghost Pepper and make for the outer stations. They don’t harbor many Union ships. Poly should be able to use the information on the card to keep you safe. For a little while at least.”
Ibrahimzade boarded the Ghost Pepper first. He turned and nodded as if to thank the administrator. Volt and Maria held one another as they boarded. Nugget rushed up behind. Andromeda asked Quark, “Do you think we can return to the Horntail and-?”
“I wish we could. I wish we could with every piece of my body.” Quark looked at Argie, “The Horntail will probably land here soon. Can you grant me on more favor?” The administrator nodded.
“They’ll be carrying a body. Brine Slurry from Phobos. Make sure he makes it ho
me. And make sure you include a note telling his parents he gave his life for us.”
“I will do that,” said the administrator nodding.
Heavy footsteps preceded the approach of the cohort.
“Go.”
Andromeda rushed up the ramp. Quark followed in his own time.
The engines roared. The ship hovered for a moment. The administrator waved at Andromeda at the controls. The ship spun. Quark’s face was shrouded in shadows as the ramp closed.
The Ghost Pepper pierced the energy veil and disappeared into the void.
SHEEP BITE
The Whitney-Scholl Agricultural Board had successfully prevented Arran Engel’s case from reaching the Court of Criminal Appeals and the IRV Robert Hooke’s prison board had expedited his sentence. He strained his neck against the clear acrylic holding cell. Footsteps came down the hall echoing along with voices of other prisoners. He touched the acrylic blast shield straining to see whether Adrian had brought their son. Not today. She had been to the lawyer and carried paperwork establishing his date of execution. She arrived with a series of biographical index forms.
Nothing she said penetrated his thoughts until she said, “Do you want to write him a letter? Maybe something I can give him when he’s older. I thought it would be better than a visit he wouldn’t remember anyway.”
“Better for whom?”
She held the papers firm, then her hands shook a little and her arms fell limp as if she was steering a wheel connected to nothing. “There’s no road left.”
“It’s like I can see the terminus and I’m forced to keep the power on until the end.”
“I can’t go on. I can’t do it. I can’t fill them out. Can you?” she shoved the papers through the tray slit on the