CHAPTER 01 - ANIAS

01

Excitement brimming through his entire being, Anias Steele led his two associates into the lockway leading from the Well Endowed to the awaiting vessel, the Glorious Arrival—or, well, a small part of it—parked in the holding slot on the station’s upper deck. Four steps, and the station foyer’s heavy exterior hatch sealed behind them, cutting off its steady operational hum. The lock ahead hissed open. Cool air wafted out, a contrast to the steamy tingle of anticipation building in his chest and seeping to his periphery.

His old friend, Gren Gerrick Salls, noticed first. “That’s not the Bertemo.”

“No,” Anias said over his shoulder. “It’ll take us to where my yacht’s waiting, though.”

“Hmm.”

Coltee Brayd, the short lanky brunette beside him, chuckled. “Lossom! Smells nice. Is it new?”

In the lock foyer, Anias stepped aside, let his friends board, then sealed the outer hatch. Small lights on the lockpad blinked from soft blue to confirming white. A clunk sounded as the lockway detached and retracted. Only then did the foyer’s inner hatch unlock with a dull thunk. Gerrick palmed the lockpad there. The lighter metal panel slid aside, granting them access to the vessel’s dim interior.

“In its entirety,” Anias replied. He slid past them, leading the way from the foyer into the vessel proper. Their boots produced hollow metallic pats on the deck plating. Systems behind smooth dark panels hummed. Faint illumination from the light pads above and track lighting below guided their steps. Thin glowing lines along the walls revealed control pads and access points dimmed with inactivity. “Like nothing this sphere’s seen before.”

The anticipation strengthened, thrumming down limbs to fingers and toes. It’s finally happening.

Always the curious one, Coltee peered down the passageway heading aft, her gaze playing above, below, and to the sides. Anias smiled. With the shadows, she’d not see much, and what the lighting did reveal, she’d likely not understand.

As he said, the ship was new from blunted bow to tapered stern. A complete rethinking of the design. A re-imagining of its purpose. Nothing the Emallus Sphere—or any of the other human spheres in Brethren Space—ever knew it needed. It was but a small part of a larger picture—a much larger and Glorious picture.

One entirely... disruptive. “Subversive,” his grandfather might’ve called it—with an approving chuckle lurking, of course.

A pang thumped. Grandfather Eltricks deserved to be here.

Damned stellar flu! If there’s one element of humanity’s existence here I intend to eliminate...

“Those look like redesigned core interfaces,” Coltee murmured, a nudge of chin indicating the two hexagonal panels a trio of steps down the passageway, both with thin borders glowing a dull white. “The ones I worked on... what? Five months ago?”

Eyebrows arching, Anias grunted. Okay, maybe she does understand some of what she sees. She’ll never guess what it’s all for.

She pointed. “Are we docking with something? Another vessel or station that doesn’t use lockways?”

Anias’s brow wrinkled further. He glanced at Gerrick, whose smile told everything.

Yeah, it suggested, she’s a lot smarter than you realize, boy.

Probably why he sponsored her rehabilitative release the past four years.

Consternation hidden, Anias said, “Something like that. We’ll need to slip first to get there.” He walked forward, toward the pilot’s deck eight paces ahead.

“Cozy in here,” Gerrick murmured, four paces along. “Decent-sized sleep cabin—I assume that’s a shower in the back?”

“With an appropriate recycling and purification system,” Anias said. They kept their voices low, as though out of respect for the darkness. “Four weeks’ worth, though I doubt anyone using the cabin as intended would go that long without resupply.”

As designed. The tickle in his belly spread, and Anias allowed a broader smile. I talk any louder, I may burst into laughter.

“Room for one,” Coltee added. “Two if they’re comfortable with each other.”

Gerrick snorted. “Well, if Anias here’s the principal driver of the design, it’s meant for solitary travel.”

A step from the steps ascending to the pilot’s deck, which stretched to port, Anias scowled over his shoulder. “One’s all this little darling needs. I made sure of that from conceptualization to final design.” He climbed the three steps to the deck and aimed for the lone pilot’s chair behind the forward consoles, arranged in a half-circle around the sturdy cushioned recliner. Two additional chairs sat on mounts close behind, half a pace from the deck’s aft bulkhead. Even in the dim lighting, their positions gave away their temporary status.

Through his chord, he pinged the command to rouse the Glorious Arrival from hibernation. The pilot’s chair rotated in invitation. Lights and status-bars spread across the consoles as they wakened, blues, whites, and ambers indicating readiness. Palm-sized navigation plates unfolded from the center console. Small motors hidden behind vents whirred to life, the subdued airflow kicking up. A flicker on the forward viewplates stretching from port to starboard and curling an arm’s length down either side,  shoved back more of the deck’s shadows. The appearance of the exterior environment, brightened by the station’s strobes and navigational beacons, added its illuminations. Traces of the micro biocircuitry embedded into the surrounding metal glinted.

From deeper in the vessel, systems stirred in wakened compliance.

As he settled, rotating the chair to face forward, additional panels descended from niches in the ceiling to within easy reach. His chord allowed him to control almost all aspects of his pilot’s duties, but many of the pilots the Glorious was meant for lacked the biorganic interface.

I might be the only one with a chord to ever sit here.

One of those aspects of brethren authority few people ever thought about. Every human in Brethren Space could handle a chord. The brethren determined the select few granted the privilege.

As Grandfather Eltricks often muttered under his breath, as though afraid to be overheard, humanity could be steps beyond their current levels were they allowed the privilege on the scale needed.

Gerrick and Coltee filled the two chairs, both buckling shoulder- and waist-straps into place. “Built for one, hmm? You going to tell us what that final design is, then?”

Anias ran through the checklists flashing in his chord, where the vessel’s digital signals were translated into pulses and waves his analog meat understood. Images shaped like digital clipboards hundreds of pages deep, moving at the speed of thought, flashed across his consciousness. Blues and whites sparkled where expected. The few amber warnings told of known hazards, most involving navigating from the Well Endowed. Even this late in the day cycle, exterior traffic remained busy, tugs, barges, and transports sliding up and down lanes existing only in each vessels’ shared cores. Meant more for habitation, heavier than expected production schedules compelled him to attach a pair of manufacturing stations to its lower decks four weeks ago. Even then, his teams were just keeping up with their duties.

The four additional manufacturing plants slipping their way from the inner orbit would soon help ease the pressures. Their arrival might force him to double the capacity of his living habitats, though.

The never-ending cycle of success, as his grandfather might’ve complained.

He curled his hands around the navigational plates. More pings to and from his chord completed the remaining departure protocols. All flashed blue.

“Easier to show you,” he said. “Buckled in?”

They murmured their compliance.

“Away we go, then.”

Through a combination of chord pings and fingertip taps, he eased the Glorious Arrival from the Well Endowed, pivoted when the all-clear brushed his awareness, then angled into the lane that formed in another quadrant within his chord. On the forward viewplates, thin amber lines stretched down and away, visible definition of their travel route. Thinner white lines within the rectangles indicated their keeping to their assigned path. All around, faint amber smudges of various sizes, moving at different speeds, warned of vessels traveling nearby, often at perpendicular directions.

A collision wouldn’t be devastating, his vessel’s protective slip-ore shell far tougher than the others’ more normal nickel and iron ore-based alloys. The delay resulting from the investigation to determine the how and why would cause more damage. As long as everyone stuck to their assigned lanes...

The hum of machinery around and behind the pilot’s deck intensified as the drive skirt kicked in before quieting again. The surrounding activity fell back with the yacht’s acceleration. The thin, red-lined travel route straightened, aimed at a distant speck.

With the station’s traffic behind him and only a trio of barges sliding down lanes parallel to his own but at a safe distance, he activated an autopilot protocol, eased his recliner from the consoles, and spun to face his companions. Ten minutes until they arrived at the slipring cluster. He started a timer in his chord, shifted it off to the side and colored it bright green, the color that attracted his attention more than most.

“I will tell you the name of this vessel. The Glorious Arrival.” He raised a hand. “Though this is not the entire vessel. A mere small part, one that detaches and can move about independent of its host. Not sure what name to give it.” He glanced at Coltee as he spoke the last. Though limited in scope, earlier interactions confirmed she worked a quick, always active mind, as Gerrick boasted.

Her gaze rolled over the deck’s interior before returning. “It’s a ship within a ship?”

Anias nodded. “Exactly. Those core interfaces you noticed earlier? They tie into that larger—” He caught himself before shell slipped out. Such might give away the surprise. “Vessel.”

Gerrick murmured, “A symbiont?”

“Not really. They combine out of necessity. This is more of a mobile brain within the two.” He twirled a finger. “Nothing happens with the larger vessel without this one attached.”

His old friend and Coltee exchanged glances. She said, “Interesting. Not a symbiont—or parasite, for that matter. More like a... a soul. An independent mind but the entirety’s soul.”

Anias drew a breath. He snapped his fingers. “Yes. Yes! Exactly!” He allowed the laugh tickling its way free. “A soul. A... a Glorious Soul. Yes! Fits perfect!”

Indeed! A mind implies cognitive abilities. The thinking meat. A soul... Well, that embodied the spiritual aspect of an entity. Though practices involving such had been left behind in the Great Exodus, when all ties with old Earth were severed, the concepts of souls and spiritedness remained.

Soul encapsulated the small vessel’s purpose. It brought the larger shell to life. It was both mind and spirit.

Why the hell didn’t I see that?

Console lights glinting in her eyes, Coltee straightened, beaming. Her smile, framed by full lips pinching at just the right distance into her cheeks, the creases at the corners of her eyes, commanded his gaze.

Look at that. Like she wants to share laughter. So much like—

No!

He forced the name, the image of her face forming in his consciousness, from his thoughts. Ten years of such mental vehemence taught him how to do so and keep both away.

A dribble of his growing tickle pulled back.

“Glorious Soul. I’ll christen it in the station’s directory right now.”

 As he spoke, he transmitted the needed pings through his chord, into the Soul’s comm, where it’d speed back to the Well Endowed. Within seconds, the name would become official. He added commentary awarding Coltee naming rights and rewarded her thoughtfulness with a bump in credits.

Perfect.

“Look at that,” Gerrick said, his tone the loudest since they boarded. “You haven’t smiled like that in months.”

Boots planted on the deck, Anias pushed himself straight, matching Coltee’s posture. Her smile remained, her gaze holding his. “I haven’t felt this level of relief for months. Longer. This—” He waved at the deck around them. “—is the culmination of years of work. Conceptualizing, planning, implementation.” More than either of you’ll ever realize. He breathed deep, swallowing the additional laughs threatening to burst free. Now was not the time.

Perhaps when I see the looks on their faces when I make the big reveal. The Glorious reveal.

He added, “Everything changes after today.”

Gerrick and Coltee exchanged glances again. “Well,” he said, “given the secrecy you put in place on all the systems involved, the people and supplies you stole away from other operations, it must be truly impactful.”

“What people and supplies?” Coltee asked.

“Borrowed, not stolen,” Anias said, smile returning.

Gerrick arched an eyebrow at him before facing Coltee. “Individuals without families. Specialists in certain fields, like ship design, slip-ore manufacturing, biorganic circuitry processing.” He faced Anias again. “All this wouldn’t have anything to do with the arcology that went missing ten months back? That third-ringer?”

Anias broadened his smile in reply. Yes, he’d needed that arcology—still did. Brought it up from the middle orbit one slipring transit at a time with the singular purpose to grow ultra-pure biorganic circuitry embedded in everything humans used within Brethren Space. Making it vanish... Now, that had been a project of enormous secrecy. As far as he knew, only he and his sentient core, Bertemo, could reveal the arcology’s current location.

His grandfather’s voice echoed. “This foolish bio-circuitry the brethren love so much. Just another form of control—but I think I’m the only damned fool in Brethren Space who realizes.”

Anias had placed a comforting hand to his grandfather’s shoulder. “Not anymore. I see it too.”

With that arcology where it is, operating around the clock the way it was meant, the bio-circuitry limitations imposed by the brethren will no longer be an issue. Like the use of slip-ore in our ship designs. Stations and habitats, too.

As I said, everything changes. For Gerrick and Coltee, today. In minutes. For the rest of humanity? In seven days.

It’d be the centerpiece of his Celebration, to take place at his family’s base of operations, the Welcome Call. When he’d plant his flag in the family business, establish himself as nothing less than an equal partner, and earn the recognition he was long overdue.

Everything changes.

Coltee’s brow rose and she leaned forward. “You stole an arcology?”

Anias allowed another laugh. “Only a small one. A third-ringer. Arcanessa sent it to feed the workers of a garage of hers needing repairs a few months back. When those were done, she didn’t want it any longer. Said it needed repairs and refurbishment. I offered to take it off her hands.” He shrugged.

“What are you using it for? I’ve seen no diversions of the organic harvests from the Comet Kellinger operations.”

Anias blinked. “You’re involved in the Kellinger operations?” He faced Gerrick, whose smile now rivaled hers from before. “Why are you wasting her on such mundane matters? I should steal her away from you, put her brilliant mind to better use.”

Smile returning, Coltee straightened and squared her shoulders again.

Gerrick waved away his concern. “She was right where I needed her at the time. Sniffed out three illicit smuggling operations—one more than I suspected.”

“What?” Anias slumped. “Three illicit operations?”

Another wave. “I kept it from you to avoid this very response. It’s handled. You had much greater concerns to worry over.”

“Besides,” Coltee said, “they gave themselves away. I simply brought their data manipulations into the light.”

Anias let his shoulders rise and fall with a sigh. “At least tell me they weren’t corporate. No ties to—”

No! Don’t think her name.

“To the inner orbit.”

“None. Small-minded locals who thought they could run a trick from under us,” Gerrick replied. “Their rehabilitations will keep them locked tight long enough.”

“Good to know. Still, in the future, at least tell Bertemo. Let it decide if I should know.”

Gerrick chuckled. “Who do you think suggested I keep those operations from you?”

Muscles tense now, Anias opened his mouth to reply but a ping in his chord cut him off.

Ten minutes already?

He raised a finger. “We’re not done. And as for the organic harvest—” He shifted his finger to Coltee. “—every kemmer was accounted for. I simply hid that better than your smugglers.”

Her faltering smile and pinching brows warned him she’d dive back into the data streams looking for that accounting the first moment she could.

As Gerrick chuckled again, louder this time, Anias pivoted back to the forward consoles.

Ahead, their destination, a slipring cluster, hung in the empty void.

In the most common design throughout humanity’s spheres within Brethren Space, five rings gave the cluster definition, with the massive 500-kenner-wide ring in front. Its thin frame, built from slip-alloy and other thus-far unidentified materials, seemed ready to snap at any moment. Hard to believe that when active, the slipring allowed enormous constructions like stations and habitats meant as permanent, non-relocating bases of operations to transit not only between orbits but to different spheres billions of light-years away.

The damage such transit caused to such large constructions required they be built close to the slipring that would deliver them within a week’s travel of their final destination.

For now.

The sliprings decreased in size, falling from a 500-kenner all the way to a 5-kenner at the fifth ring, those mostly used by tugs and personal skiffs. The size of the vessel seeking to transit determined which ring activated and the credit cost involved—along with whether or not the brethren gave their permission for the slip. His yacht, the Bertemo, triggered the fourth ring in a cluster, designating it a fourth-ringer.

Another form of control Grandfather Eltricks complained about.

The Glorious Soul would trigger the fifth ring, reducing the cost required to operate. Another selling point.

Through chord pings and manual adjustments on the navigation plates, Anias aimed the Soul down the cluster’s center. The thin amber lines blinked off.

“Transit in thirty seconds. Both of you strapped in?”

Coltee cleared her throat. “Are you going to slow down? The drive skirt’s pushing us rather hard.”

Anias felt her pause.

She added, “In fact, that... should’ve taken us at least fifteen minutes to get here.”

Anias glanced back in time to see Gerrick place a hand on her knee. “Later,” his old friend murmured. “Right now, let’s ready ourselves for the big reveal.”

Anias faced the viewplates. Big, yes. And certain to be... Glorious.

Ahead, soft white light blurred the slipring’s smooth slip-alloy interior a moment before swirling rainbow light filled the void.

“Brace for transit,” he murmured. Though he knew it was perfectly safe, having traveled in the Soul for a dozen transits now, he still tensed, thighs bracing for an impact he hoped never came. The drive skirt kicked off.

A pair of hard thumps of his heart later, the Glorious Soul dove into the rainbow swirl.

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