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Authors: Gavin Smith

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The Age of Scorpio

BOOK: The Age of Scorpio
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To Evelyn & Grant Smith (or Mum & Dad as I like to call them) without whom none of this would have been possible (though someone had better tell Mum about this as she doesn’t like Science Fiction very much).

THE AGE OF SCORPIO
Gavin G. Smith

Contents

Cover

Dedication

Title Page

1. A Long Time After the Loss

2. Northern Britain, a Long Time Ago

3. Now

4. A Long Time After the Loss

5. Northern Britain, a Long Time Ago

6. Now

7. A Long Time After the Loss

8. Northern Britain, a Long Time Ago

9. Now

10. A Long Time After the Loss

11. Northern Britain, a Long Time Ago

12. Now

13. A Long Time After the Loss

14. Northern Britain, a Long Time Ago

15. Now

16. A Long Time After the Loss

17. Northern Britain, a Long Time Ago

18. Now

19. A Long Time After the Loss

20. Southern Britain, a Long Time Ago

21. Now

22. A Long Time After the Loss

23. Southern Britain, a Long Time Ago

24. Now

25. A Long Time After the Loss

26. Southern Britain, a Long Time Ago

27. Now

28. A Long Time After the Loss

29. Southern Britain, a Long Time Ago

30. Now

31. A Long Time After the Loss

32. Southern Britain, a Long Time Ago

33. Now

34. A Long Time After the Loss

Epilogue: The Walker

Acknowledgements

Also By Gavin G. Smith

Copyright

1
A Long Time After the Loss

The deep-space salvage tug looked like it was made of hundreds of years of patched-together scrap parts. The original parts of the ship were buried underneath layers of barely functioning detritus. It was a scavenger ship, a space-going parasite that fed on the misfortunes of others. Just like everything else in Known Space.

Forward was Command and Control, the crew area, workshops and a small internal hold, but much of the rest of the craft was exposed to vacuum. The massive towing apparatus, tools for use in vacuum, rolls of high-tensile net to carry externally salvaged cargo, detachable boosters to attach to towed hulks and hangars for the various drones, including Nulty’s own hangar. The rest of the crew had long since given up trying to guess Nulty’s original race and gender. A long time ago Nulty had uploaded himself into a deep-space salvage drone and chosen to live in a machine body in the vacuum.

The tug was called the
Black Swan
. Few names could have been less fitting. None of its current crew knew what a swan was and none of them had the inclination to find out.

The oversized engines, used for towing hulks many times larger than the
Black Swan
, were on heavy-duty manoeuvrable pontoons that looked like muscular arms reaching out from the tug. The engines were old and didn’t function optimally, like everything else on the
Black Swan
. Only the bridge drive was new. This was because of all the captains based out of Arclight, only Eldon Sloper was desperate enough to agree to a salvage job in Red Space.

‘Where are we?’ The question irritated Eldon. Most things had for many years now. It was the irritability of your life not working out the way you wanted it to. He hadn’t asked for much, he thought, just a thriving salvage business, but that had been too much apparently.

‘Space,’ the small weasel-looking man with the pockmarked face and thinning hair answered. Eden had often wondered why someone who looked like that hadn’t had themself extensively redesigned a long time ago. Nulty, during one of his rare fallings-out with his captain, had suggested that Eldon had been sculpted, but his personality had bled out and turned him back to his original form.

Eldon didn’t have to look at Eden to know his sarcastic answer to her question had irritated her. It had been designed to. After all, she’d had neunonic access to the co-ordinates since they’d left Arclight.

The tug was old enough to still have manual displays and controls, though it was, like nearly all spacecraft in Known Space, piloted via neunonic interface. The pilot and co-pilot/navigator’s seats were raised to give a better view of the subjective front of the tug, which the hull’s smart matter had rendered transparent, providing them with a panoramic view of outside. Information cascaded down the vista of black and pinpricks of light. The view was repeated in the minds of each of the crew along with pertinent information for their specific job roles.

‘We’re not quite off the charts but this is pretty much the edge of Known Space. Much further and I expect we’d have to explain ourselves to the Church.’ The cheerfulness, implying as it did that Brett felt this was some kind of adventure, further irritated Eldon. It was symptomatic of his overall irritation with the handsome younger man – life hadn’t ground the hopes and dreams out of him yet. Well that and the way that Melia looked at him.

‘Eden, wake up Melia,’ Eldon said.

‘Oh, is kitty going to do some work for a change?’ Eden said, not even trying to hide the acid in her tone.

Eldon turned in the flight chair to look at the engineer. He had always assumed that the glorified mechanic was jealous of Melia, though why she didn’t just sculpt herself to look more pleasing to the eye he had no idea. It wasn’t as if he didn’t pay her enough and she didn’t have the crippling financial responsibilities of trying to run a ship, well, a tug anyway. Eden was neither one thing nor another. He was pretty sure that her base uplift was human, though she’d had some lizard DNA in her somewhere along the line as much of her visible skin was scaled. She’d obviously had both soft-machine biological and hard-machine tech augments, whereas most people tended to go for one or the other. Eldon wasn’t even sure of her gender: he was pretty sure she was base female but from one of the more masculine female genders.

‘Eden, just for once could we pretend that I’m the captain and we’re about to do something really—’

‘Fucking stupid?’ Eden asked. Eldon felt a vein on his forehead start to twitch as Brett laughed, good-naturedly, of course.

‘Eden, Melia’s our bridge drive specialist – we’ll need her,’ Brett said.
Oh go and fuck yourself, you supercilious little prick
, Eldon thought. But it didn’t matter, Melia was all his, a fully bonded concubine bought and paid for. He’d paid for her training and neunonics so she could help with the ship’s systems. So she wasn’t just an ornament and sex toy.

Eden glared at Eldon. He was just as capable of waking the fucking cat, she thought as she ran through the pod’s shutdown sequence on her neunonics. Strictly speaking, as the ship’s engineer the pod’s systems were her responsibility but Eden was pretty sure that Eldon had just got her to do it because he knew how much she hated the cat.

The pod creaked open. It needed maintenance but Eden was putting it off as long as possible in the hope that Melia died in a horrible cryogenic accident. Eden had sent the cursory, bordering on rude, wake-up call to the cat’s neunonics. Melia hadn’t responded but the pod’s systems reported that the cocktail of drugs required to bring the cat to fully functioning consciousness had been administered.

Melia sat up in the pod and made yawning a performance that allowed her to show off all her sculpted assets. Eldon turned to watch the show. Even Brett, healthy polysexual though he was, looked around briefly.

‘That is so fucking demeaning,’ Eden muttered under her breath.

‘And yet everyone does what I want,’ Melia said, smiling. The lightly furred feline humanoid’s smile was of course predatory.

‘Only because you pander to some xenophile pornographic fantasy hard-wired into the wannabe masculine since before the Loss.’

‘Come on, Eden.’ Brett said. Eden normally liked Brett, but his want for everyone to get on was starting to irritate her as well.

Eldon was looking at Melia with an expression that bordered on worship. His adoration was shattered by the grateful smile that Melia shot Brett.

It was short walk from the pod to Eldon’s flight chair, but the naked feline made a performance of that. Eden tried not to grind her teeth as Melia put her arms around Eldon and jumped into his lap.

‘We’re in space, baby?’ Melia said, rubbing against Eldon and purring gently.

‘Oh put some fucking clothes on!’ Eden said. Melia bared her teeth and hissed at the human – mostly – woman.

‘Go and fuck yourself, you puritan bitch!’ Eldon snapped at the engineer.

‘Eden, you know that they have different social mores to us,’ Brett said in a conciliatory tone.

‘Would those social mores include manipulating the fuck out of every halfwit with a penis?’

‘They like being looked after,’ Brett said.

‘They like other people doing shit for them, you mean.’

Eldon’s mood had improved with Melia waking up but was now beginning to sour again. He needed to replace Eden but needed to find someone of her calibre that came at her price. He tried his best to ignore her. Instead he focused on the wriggling naked feline in his lap.

‘Will we be docking soon so we can go and do something fun?’ Melia asked.

‘Baby Doll.’ Eldon ignored the gagging sound that Eden was making. ‘We need you to do some work.’ Melia pouted. ‘Did you look at the data packet I ’faced you?’ Eldon had to suppress his irritation as Melia shook her head.

‘I figured that if it was important you’d tell me when I woke up.’ Melia concentrated for a bit. ‘We’re in the middle of nowhere, baby. Why’d you want to go into the Red here?’

‘We’ve been given a tip on a some salvage, Baby Doll.’

‘In Red Space?’ Melia’s purring baby talk had gone; now she sounded more businesslike. ‘Isn’t that like, really dangerous?’

‘Yes. There’s a reason the Church has us stay on the routes marked with the beacons,’ Eden snapped.

‘They’re paying a lot, Baby Doll – they even installed a new bridge drive,’ Eldon continued. Greed and the need to be safe warred within the feline.

‘Enough money to have fun?’ she asked. Eldon nodded. ‘A lot of fun?’ Eldon looked pained but nodded. Eden groaned as she saw her bonus getting smaller. Melia smiled.

‘I’ll go and put some clothes on before what’s-her-face expires in a puddle of jealousy.’

‘While you’re at it, why don’t you fuck yourself?’ Eden suggested.

‘Only with Eldon watching, darling.’

Nulty didn’t want to miss this. It had been so long since the
Black Swan
had gone into Red Space. His hangar door slid down as he disconnected himself from his immersion link. In aperture configuration, Nulty scuttled out of the hangar on deceptively spindly looking insectile legs. Even living as a machine he felt the vertigo of being alone out in the stars and embraced it. He hoped he never grew tired of it. Though he had to cut off the comms chatter from the rest of the crew. He wondered how they could just bicker at times like this.

In front of the
Black Swan
space was ripped open, though Nulty did not appreciate it as violence. To him it looked like a tear lined with a silk ribbon of blue pulsing radiation. Through the tear it looked like space was bleeding, the bright crimson of Red Space. As incredible as this sight was, there was something about the fabric of Red Space that made him feel uncomfortable. He knew Red Space was dangerous. He knew much of it was uncharted territory, and in his several hundred years of spacefaring he’d heard all the stories, though like most people he’d never seen anything. Deep in his metal shell he just couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong at a fundamental level. If he were forced to put a word to it, the word would have been vampiric, though every time he thought it the rational part of his brain scoffed at him.

As they moved through into the eddying, seemingly living crimson smoke of Red Space, Nulty retreated back into his hangar. Reconnecting, Nulty went looking for solace in immersion fantasies.

BOOK: The Age of Scorpio
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