This is a boy’s adventure tale.
But this is not a boy’s adventure tale prepared by a stuffy old man in a tweed jacket with elbow patches. This is the sort of story that a boy might imagine for himself, filled with action, mystery, a red-hot space queen, and nary a whiff of precious moral instruction.
Well, maybe there is some moral instruction. But this is Reversed Black Maria. Nothing is as it seems, and the thread is very fine, indeed.
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A Reversed Black Maria Novelette in Multiple Parts
The operations center was full of stars. A hologram of the Milky Way galaxy took up every square centimeter of the immense room, except for the massive ebony bar that dominated the stern bulkhead. Thousands of snugly secured bottles glittered on the wall behind it. The Empress clearly enjoyed a good party when she wasn’t planning galactic war.
Today, she was doing the latter.
“The Arzenekoi assaults on the shunt heads at Loop One and the Gum Nebula Zone were feints,” she said, standing in a swirl of ruddy nebula and brilliant star clusters. “The enemy forces are already in retreat. I've ordered my servants to pursue and harass. It looks like the work of one of the minor warlords. But compared to his human cohorts, he performed like a Grand Admiral! The mercenaries that ambushed us were nothing but Frigold Irregulars.”
“Ah, professional losers,” said Aunt Karina. “We smoked those guys every time.” Perched on a barstool in the dark behind Oskar, her green eyes shone out like stars in the Coalsack.
“They were no better in my day,” Farfar Hendrick agreed. “How did you find out it was them? They never carry identification. They even have their fingerprints ablated.”
“The Empress and I returned and captured one of their officers. He was loquacious,” Miriam said, stepping out of her hiding place behind the holo of the Scutum-Centaurus arm.
“He talked? That doesn’t sound like the Frigolders I fought,” Farfar said.
“They weren’t fighting me,” Inna said flatly. She dismissed the map with a wave of her hand, revealing a beautifully appointed space that resembled a clubroom instead of a military nerve center. She plopped down on a huge leather ottoman. “My gut tells me this isn’t over. I can’t believe it fell apart so easily. Someone’s trying to trick me. But what am I missing?”
“This coup was planned a long time ago,” Aunt Karina said. “Sleeper elements were staged in plain sight. We activated them by visiting Earth. It’s likely that some piece didn’t come off as planned. Maybe the mercenaries were out of position? If they’d attacked us last night at the house...”
Inna shook her head. “They’d have run afoul of the police cordon. They waited for it to pull back in the morning. This is entirely my fault. I was a fool to think I could just go walking out like a normal person.” She looked to the Winters. “Please accept my apologies. I never meant to embroil anyone in my drama, least of all you, Oskar.”
“It’s okay, Inna,” Oskar replied. “Thank you for saving us.”
She smiled. “You’re welcome, but I haven’t finished saving you yet. I attract trouble. My ship is fully stealthed, but I can’t guarantee she hasn’t been detected. It’s imperative that I leave before it draws an attack. I don’t want to fight in near-Earth space. Too many collateral targets.”
“What about us?” asked Farmor nervously. She’d missed her book club meeting. Oskar doubted that she’d miss another, Empress or no.
“Don’t worry, we won’t take you with us. I can’t fly yet, either. My crew is on liberty all over the Solar System. Miriam will gather them. The rest of you will return to Earth aboard the backup cutter. Kari’s our only certified pilot, so she’ll be your captain.”
Aunt Karina slid off her stool and scooped Nils up off the floor. “You’re certified, not that I trust your flying. Aren’t you coming?”
“No. Now that I know there’s a coup in progress, I’m unwilling to leave the Galaxia unattended. Precautions or no, I can’t allow a repeat of what happened last time. I already powered up the engines. I’ll lay in a course while I’m waiting for you.”
“What happened last time?” Oskar asked.
“My ship was stolen right out from under my nose. We responded to a distress call. It was a trap, of course. While we were occupied aboard the hulk, someone took my ship. We had a bad time of it after that.”
“Weren’t you taking the same risk when you came to visit us in Oslo?”
“No, we weren’t,” Aunt Karina said. “When Inna got Galaxia, the Ghostwrights installed a system that locks the Spooky engines unless she’s aboard. Don’t ask me how it works. Some kind of woowoo stuff.”
“The Galaxia can only ghostride if my unique spirit is aboard,” Inna corrected. Oskar merely nodded. He’d become accustomed to strange revelations.
Miriam knelt before Inna, a sinuous wisp of dark scud nestling at the base of a mighty thunderhead. “I go at your leave, Exalted One.”
“Yes, please. I hate doing this to the men. They’ve earned their liberty. I’ll apologize to them personally when you return.”
“They live to serve, as do I,” Miriam said, and vanished into thin air.
The Winters gaped at her faint footprints in the sculpted carped. “Dottir, do you ever get used to the woowoo stuff?” Farmor whispered.
Aunt Karina snorted. “Nope. Mamma, Pappa, Oscar–come with me. Let’s get this debacle over with.”
“Hold up, I’ll see you off,” Inna said. She stood, and stretched her powerful arms. Her stomach growled, a basso profundo rumble more akin to the thrum of an idling diesel than any sound made by a wholesome human belly. The elder Winters pretended not to hear, and Oskar swallowed a chuckle.
Aunt Karina was alarmed. “Inna, when was the last time you had food?” she asked, deadly serious.
“Dinner last night, unless you count...” Inna trailed off, the blood draining from her face. Her fingers flew to her lips.
“How much?”
“Only a mouthful.”
Aunt Karina was in earnest. “Uh oh. That’s not good. Forget about us. You need to eat, now.”
Their exchange was too strange even for Farfar Hendrick. “Dottir, please! Her Imperial Majesty is not a child,” he admonished.
His daughter held her ground. “No, she’s not. She’s a goddess. A goddess who tasted the blood of a sacrifice, but wasn’t propitiated.”
The Winters were aghast. “Don’t be vile!” hissed Farmor.
“She’s not wrong,” Inna agreed, surprising everyone. “Rest assured, my self-control isn’t that bad. I won’t eat anyone, least of all my friends. But I’d fancy a few kilos of rare chateaubriand and some Guillon to wash it down.”
“You’ll have time for one of your lion suppers after we leave,” Aunt Karina said. “But don’t get so drunk that you do something stupid.”
Inna laughed. “Me, drunk? Never. Well, maybe a lot, but only when nobody is trying to overthrow me.”
With Aunt Karina leading the way, they set off for the small craft hangar. While his grandparents stuck close to their daughter, Oskar walked with Inna. Intellectually, he knew he should keep his distance. His aunt wasn’t wrong about her. But Oskar knew somehow that when they parted, he’d never see her again. It bothered him inexpressibly.
The sides of the gangway opened on one luxurious salon after another. Some were ornate, with argent wall coverings and blue velvet furniture. Others had cozy fake fireplaces and tall bookcases, and a particularly large one featured a dance floor. Oskar was amazed. “This ship is like a luxury liner.”
“She is a luxury liner,” Inna replied. “Galaxia is a classic Arethusa 550. She was the family yacht for generations. I grew up aboard this ship. When she came to me, I didn’t change much. I like her the way she is.”
“Everyone says she’s armed to the teeth. I was expecting a battleship.”
“I didn’t say that I didn’t change anything. She was always fast, but now she can hide and fight, too.”
“I can’t imagine you hide very often,” Oskar said with a grin.
“I’m hiding right now. It’s wearing. I want to face these gankchokers, whoever they are, and get it over with.”
“Are you sure you’ll win?”
“No, but I’ve got a better scorecard than anyone out there. I like my odds.”
The gangway terminated in a large departure lounge, the equal of anything in a spaceport. The aft wall was lined with windows that gave a broad view of Galaxia’s hangar. A sleek, delta-winged cutter waited outside, nestled at the end of a pressurized tube. In the manner of a military carrier there were no bay doors. The hangar was open to space above and below.
The group gathered before the hatch. Inna extended a hand first to Farfar. “It has been a pleasure, Herr Winter. I hope you can forgive me.”
He took her hand haltingly, as if it hurt to move his arm. “The pleasure was all mine, Your Imperial Majesty. There is nothing to forgive. Your hospitality is beyond my wildest expectations. I wish you good luck and good hunting.” At the last, he winked, but he winced, too.
Aunt Karina moved to his side. “What is it Pappa?”
Farfar pushed her away. “It’s a stiff shoulder. Think nothing of it.”
“Bullshit. You were hurt in the fight, weren’t you? We’re going to get that arm looked at as soon as we get you home.”
“You’ll do nothing of the kind. You must return at once to Her Majesty. There’s a war on!”
Inna laughed. “It’s quite alright, Herr Winter. Don’t neglect your health on my account. I can wait a few minutes longer.”
Additional polite good-byes were said, and Aunt Karina and her parents disappeared into the tube to the cutter. That left Oskar alone with Inna. She laid warm hands on his shoulders. “Oskar, it’s been a wild ride, hasn’t it?”
“It has, Inna. Thank you.”
Seized by an alien impulse he didn’t understand–and a familiar one that he understood all too well–he rose up on his tiptoes and gave her beautiful, man-eating mouth a most unchaste kiss. She received it hungrily. After a lingering repast, she broke away. Her lips found his ear. “That was bold, Oskar,” she whispered. “But you must never presume on my appetites. Go with your family, and forget your lust for me. I am death.”
She released a flushed and quivering Oskar. Paying him a last smoldering smile, she spun on her heel and walked out of his life.
“What’s the holdup? We’re leaving!” It was Aunt Karina, leaning out of the boarding tube.
Oskar nodded toward the gangway. “I was saying goodbye to Inna. She just left.”
“She’s headed for the galley. There might be a war on, but when I get back, I’ll find her sleeping off a binge in her sauna.”
“Is that a good idea?”
“It’s no dumber than dallying around here. Come on!”
Oskar followed her down the tube into the cutter. It was roomy, with four rows of acceleration couches. Nils was strapped tight in the front seat. Farmor sat behind Nils. She was already napping, her forehead resting on the curved glass of her window. Aunt Karina vanished into the cockpit. Oskar found a seat and buckled in. It was only then that he realized that Farfar Hendrick was nowhere to be seen. There was a large, friendly push-to-talk button on his armrest. He pressed it.
“Tante, is Farfar with you?”
Her voice came back crisp and clear. “No. Isn’t he back there?”
“No.”
“That’s strange. Can you look for him? I need to get the checklist started.”
Oskar was already up and moving. A quick jog up and down the aisle confirmed that Farfar was not lying on the floor. When he passed Farmor, he noticed that she hadn’t moved a muscle since he boarded.
“Farmor, wake up,” Oskar said softly.
She didn’t respond.
The first tendrils of icy fear touched Oskar’s kidneys. He gently shook his grandmother. She moaned, and her head lolled, exposing a livid bruise on her forehead. Something had slammed her head into the window.
Oskar jabbed the push-to-talk. “Tante! Farmor’s hurt!”
“What?!”
His aunt burst from the cockpit, space helmet in place and gun in hand. She ran straight to her mother’s side. “Herregut!” she exclaimed when the checked the insensate woman's pupils. “She needs triage. I’ll get the emergency medic. You find Inna and tell her we have a problem.”
“But what happened to Farmor? Where’s Farfar? What’s going on?”
Aunt Karina shoved him aside and rushed to a cabinet mounted on the forward bulkhead. “No time for talk. Get Inna. We’re going to need her,” she snapped.
Oskar darted from the cutter, through the access tube and into the lounge. “Inna!!” he shouted.
“Don’t be an idiot!” came the distant voice of his aunt from the cutter. “Go forward. You’ll find her in the...” Oskar missed her last word.
“What did you say?” he hollered down the access tube.
Outside, the launch assist pistons fired, flinging the cutter out of the hangar and ripping the access tube from the bulkhead. A hurricane of escaping air blasted Oskar off his feet. He smacked face-first into the access tube hatch a merest fraction of a second after it snapped shut, triggered by some embedded emergency protocol.
Cheek aching, Oskar staggered to the lounge window and watched the stricken cutter tumble away. It abruptly vanished, replaced by filmy grey shreds of an unknown nebula.
The Galaxia had taken an unplanned ghostride.
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
