Galaxy Undone, page 1
GALAXY UNDONE
FORGOTTEN GALAXY
BOOK 4
M.R. FORBES
Published by Quirky Algorithms
Seattle, Washington
This novel is a work of fiction and a product of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 by M.R. Forbes
All rights reserved.
Cover illustration by Tom Edwards
Edited by Merrylee Lanehart
CHAPTER 1
"Stand up," the guard ordered, eyes barely visible through the reflection of his helmet. "Slowly."
Caleb did as the man said without question or complaint, not only because his hands and feet were shackled, or because there were half a dozen more guards on the transport, but because he was exactly where he wanted to be. In the custody of a recruiter, the Prime Recruiter, in fact. A man named Bellet. His heavily starched and perfectly pressed uniform was a near-copy of Caleb's, though it had been cared for to a level of precision he would never bother to match.
After introducing himself and leading Caleb away from the courtyard of the Nexus Orphanage, he’d shoved him into a seat in the transport’s main cabin before vanishing through the hatch to the flight deck. He reappeared now that they had landed, pulling to a stop just in front of Caleb. Shorter than Caleb, with an olive complexion and an arrogant demeanor, he was obviously pleased with his day's catch.
"Mister Creb," he said. "How was the flight?"
"Not bad," Caleb replied. "Where are we now?"
"Transfer processing area," Bellet replied. "You'll be scanned, cleaned, and logged before moving to holding with the other inmates. That's where you'll remain until we have a full boat to ship you out to the belt."
"How long will it take to fill up a ship?" Caleb asked.
Bellet raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question and the relative impatience with which Caleb had asked it. "A day or two at most. I have some questions before we leave the transport."
"Ask away. It doesn’t mean I’m going to answer them.”
“You’re pretty cocky considering you’re heading for the belt."
Caleb responded with a shrug.
“I want to know why you accessed restricted records at Acala Primary, and then, rather than escaping when you were found out, you went to the orphanage to cross-reference them. You had to know you were likely to be captured."
"I honestly didn't think you would capture me. Do you even know what those records are?"
"No. They're restricted. I don't have access, nor would I want it. They could send me to the belt with you for that."
"Who has the power to indict the Prime Recruiter?"
"Baroness Kagata, or any of the other nobility. And they would if I'm not careful. Answer the question. What were you looking for?"
"You've already sentenced me to life in the belt. Why should I tell you anything?"
"I haven't completed my indictment. I can still change the terms, based on how cooperative you choose to be."
"I'm not in a very cooperative mood."
Bellet smiled. "Your associates left you behind, and yet you still want to protect them?"
"They don't need my protection. They’ve already escaped."
"While abandoning you."
"I didn't leave them much choice.” Caleb cocked his head to the side as he smirked up at Bellet. “We can play this game all day. You won't get anything out of me."
"You came all the way to the Combine for those records. I will determine the reason, whether or not you help me. But you can improve your position greatly by helping me."
"Understood. No, thanks."
"Perhaps you'll reconsider once the reality of your situation sets in. I'll speak to you again before you transfer out." He glanced at the lead guard, already waiting by the hatch. "Take him away."
"Yes, sir," the guard replied, stepping forward as Bellet moved aside. He clamped a hand around Caleb’s upper arm and pulled him to his feet. “Follow me."
The transport's hatch opened, and the guard led Caleb toward it, a second guard at his back, ready to shove him forward if needed. Caleb shuffled to the hatch and down a short ramp to the ground. He realized right away that he was back at the Acala spaceport, in a section he had seen during Medusa’s descent. He had taken the large facility nearby for a warehouse, only now realizing its true function.
Vraxis says Medusa has safely returned to Gorgon, Ishek told him. Damian wants to know what they should do now.
Tell Vraxis this will take a few days at best. Likely longer. Have Penn tell him to park Gorgon somewhere within a few light years and wait for further orders.
Consider it done.
The guards led Caleb through a side door of the warehouse and into a small room where another pair of guards waited. These guards wore full body armor and carried stun batons. "We'll take it from here," one of them said, clamping a hand on Caleb's shoulder. "Stay calm,” he warned, “and everything will go smoothly. Try to resist, and..." He raised his baton threateningly.
”Hey, I'm calm," Caleb said as the planetary defense guards left
The additional guards led Caleb through a secured door, into the next room of the facility. A machine resembling an airport metal detector sat against one wall, a desk near the other. A stern older man sat at the desk, a tired expression on his face. "Enrollee 746971," he said in a dull voice. "Take off your boots and step in the scanner."
"Do I have to hold my arms over my head?" Caleb joked, mimicking the posture.
The man glanced up at him. He obviously didn't understand the reference, but Caleb's lack of concern clearly confused him. "Just step inside."
Caleb pulled off his boots under the watchful eyes of the guards before stepping into the machine.
I hope this thing can't see me.
Me, too, Caleb replied.
Green and red lasers swept over him, needing only a few seconds to complete their task.
"Step out of the scanner," the man ordered. Again, Caleb did as he was instructed. The man tapped a few times on the control board for his terminal. "Please state your name for the records."
"Cayheb Creb," Caleb replied.
"You aren't from Callus."
"No. I just got here today from Atlas. I'm finding your hospitality... lacking."
"We have found you guilty of viewing restricted information, resisting arrest, assaulting an officer of peace, and disrespecting a recruiter."
"I never had a trial."
"This isn't Atlas, Mister Creb. How old are you?"
You should tell him your actual age.
"Two-hundred ninety-one," Caleb replied.
The man frowned. "You do understand, we’ve sentenced you to life in the belt?”
"Yes."
"I've been processing convicts for nearly thirty years. You're the first person I've seen with a life sentence who hasn't begged me for clemency."
"Why would I do that? I'm looking forward to working in the belt."
The man stared at him in disbelief. "Are you mentally deranged?"
"I don't think so." He shrugged, grinning. “But who knows?”
The man shook his head and pointed to a door on the other side of the room. "You can change in there."
"Change?" Caleb asked.
"Since you're not from the Combine, I'll explain. The scanner took your physiological measurements. An automated system produced a rocksuit for you, while a second system created a profile that will ensure you're given appropriate nutrition based on your body composition. No more, no less."
Why is it that the mining operation seems to have the most advanced technology of anywhere we've been so far in the Spiral?
It makes you wonder who the Spiral’s founders really are, Caleb agreed. But it may simply be a case of technology driven by necessity. If the owners want to squeeze every coin of profit, they need to maximize efficiency.
"Quit stalling," the larger guard said. "You aren't the only criminal we have to process today."
"Make sure you remove all your clothing before putting on the rocksuit. It contains systems to assist with bladder evacuation and filtration."
"You mean it'll store my piss?"
"Not exactly. Your liquid waste is filtered and recycled in-suit for reuse. This allows for extended time in the field. There are no toilets beyond the substations."
"How do you define extended time?" Caleb asked.
"Workdays are eighteen hours in a twenty-six hour period. One hundred periods equals one cycle, after which you'll return to holding on Callus for thirty periods of recovery." He paused. "Strike that. Since your sentence is life, you won't return for recovery. In time, your body will adapt to the artificial gravity of the substation and the weightlessness of the belt and will become unviable outside of that environment."
By the way he said it, Caleb knew the man wanted to crack his calm demeanor. He didn't give him the satisfaction, instead nodding and turning toward the hatch leading into the changing area. It opened at Caleb's approach, closing immediately behind him and leaving him in a small room. A simple brown jumpsuit and thick magboots waited on a shelf built into the wall. What impressed Caleb the most was how quickly the systems had assembled and delivered the package.
Efficiency, Ishek reminded him.
Caleb picked up the rocksuit, surprised by its light weight. He inspected it, noticing what appeared to be sensors on the inside of the suit near where his heart and lungs were located. A quick examination reve
In the Spiral, the convicts have the best technology, he commented to Ishek as he stripped off his clothes and donned the rocksuit, doing his best to keep Ishek hidden from the view of any potential cameras. The rocksuit fit snugly over every part of his body except his head. Looking down at the suit, he put his hand over the bright yellow number stamped to his chest. 746971. The same number was also printed on the suit’s back and each shoulder, keeping it visible from every angle.
Next, Caleb pulled on the boots. Again, perfectly sized, along with their standard magnetic locking functionality, they had retractable grips in them he imagined were useful while standing on an asteroid. Finished dressing, he turned back to the door, unsure how to open it from the inside.
He didn't need to. A hidden door on the other side of the room opened instead. A different guard stepped in, trailed by a woman in plain brown utilities with a number stamped on her clothes. Obviously, a convict on her recovery period, she looked gaunt and weak as she silently collected his discarded clothes. A moment of eye contact revealed a sea of compassion in her gaze, pitying him for ending up like her.
"This way," the guard said, waving him forward with his baton.
They entered a long corridor, walking to a door halfway down and stopping there. A door on the opposite wall a little further down opened.
Recruiter Bellet stepped out.
CHAPTER 2
“The rocksuit fits you well," Bellet said to Caleb as he approached. "A shame, though. You don't belong here, Cayheb. Your people abandoned you. And for what?" He and Caleb stared at one another. He continued when Caleb didn't reply. ”Answer and I'll reduce your sentence to five cycles. Sixty-three percent of convicts survive five cycles and they're not built like you. Not at all."
Caleb looked over his shoulder, to the convict woman nearing the end of the corridor. He didn't know how many cycles she had left, but he was pretty sure she wouldn't survive more than one or two more. "How can you do this to your citizens?"
Caleb noticed the flash of guilt and remorse that washed over Bellet's face before vanishing completely. "They serve a necessary purpose. They suffer for breaking the law and provide for their fellow citizens as penance.”
"Is that what it says in the vacation brochures?" Caleb asked spitefully.
Bellet's face tightened. "We all do what we must survive. For you to survive, you need to answer my question. What were you looking for in that data?"
"You'll know once I find it."
The statement confused Bellet, but not enough to give him pause. "Consider your sentence upheld," he said stiffly, turning and leaving the way he’d come.
Caleb heard the guard chuckling under his breath. "What's so funny?" he asked.
The guard froze, not expecting him to notice. "You're an idiot. That's all." He turned to the door to his left, tapping the control panel.
The heavy door slid aside, revealing the holding area beyond. Nearly five hundred convicts filled the large room, some standing in groups, some sitting on the floor alone, others asleep on one of the many cots. A line had formed near the far end, where recovering convicts doled out rations through a small gap in a barred door. A second line led to an unmarked door that Caleb assumed was a toilet.
His eyes fell on the closest group of convicts. The most recent additions prior to his arrival, they huddled together, their fear clear both in their expressions and in Ishek's reaction.
I am going to like this place.
"In you go," the guard said, about to shove Caleb into the room when he stepped forward on his own. He walked over to the group nearest him as the door closed behind him. The newcomers fell silent as their heads swiveled in his direction. He glanced at each of them, noticing how some of their rocksuits fit much more tightly than his. Apparently, the system built the suits for what they expected the people to look like over time, rather than during their intake.
"Mister Creb?"
Caleb's gaze went up to the face of the speaker, his jaw clenching. "Maggie?"
The receptionist from the hospital nodded, tears immediately springing to her eyes. "You tried to help me, Mister Creb. But then something happened in the hospital and that recruiter came back, blaming me."
Caleb's hands clenched next. "How long?"
"Two cycles. I'll survive it. I have to. My mother is old and has no one to take care of her now. The thing is, I did nothing wrong." She broke down sobbing, holding her face in her hands.
"I'm sorry, Maggie," Caleb said through gritted teeth. "I'm going to do what I can to put a stop to this. But I'll need some time."
"What can you do?" one of the other newcomers asked. "You're going to be out in the belt breaking rocks, just like the rest of us."
"Yeah, you're delusional if you think you can change anything," another said.
"We'll see," Caleb replied. He circled to Maggie to put a hand on her shoulder. "Hang in there." His fingers tightened before he left the group, continuing through the room.
The odds he would find Castra waiting to be shipped back to the belt at the end of a recovery period were slim, but he couldn't afford to make any assumptions. The teens at the orphanage had told him she had short, auburn hair and light eyes with a freckled face. Cute, but not striking. No doubt a few years in the belt had hardened her look, but he didn't see anyone even close to the description on his first sweep of the holding area.
"Are you looking for somebody?" an inmate asked, approaching Caleb from the left. Average height, rail-thin, and bald, he had the gaunt, sunken look of a man who had served multiple cycles already. "Because you'll be getting plenty of exercise soon enough. No need to waste your energy here."
Caleb paused, grinning when he turned to the man. "Believe it or not, I am.”
"One of those, eh,” the man replied with a laugh.
"What do you mean, one of those?"
"I've seen it before. People do some stupid things to get the attention of a recruiter, just to get themselves sent to the belt for a cycle or two, hoping to be reunited with someone special. A lover, a mother, or significant other. As if it's that simple."
"I didn't expect it to be simple. I didn't really expect to find her here, either. But I had to look."
"Yeah, I get it. So who's she to you? I'm guessing lover."
The comment made Caleb cringe. "She's too young for me. Her name is Castra. She's an orphan. Nineteen years old, brown hair, light eyes, freckles."
The man made a thinking face before shrugging. "She's not popping to the front of my mind, but then your description of her makes her sound pretty unremarkable. Besides, these rocksuits make us all look the same." He tugged at the tight fit of his. Anyway, I don't know anyone named Castra, but that doesn't mean much. There are ten thousand of us up at the primary station, three thousand more on the substations."
"How many substations are there?"
"Six. You aren't from around here, are you, asking a question like that?"
"No. I'm from Atlas."
He whistled. "What the hell are you doing all the way out here?"
"I'm looking for Castra."
"And you know for a fact she's here?"
Caleb nodded. "I do, or I wouldn't be here."
"You're a brave soul to get yourself puckered to look for her, I'll give you that. Whatever she is to you, I hope she appreciates you."
"She doesn't even know I exist."
That comment cracked the man up. "This is my fourth cycle. I've heard of folks getting arrested to be here, but never someone who had never met the person they were looking for. You're crazy, man." He put out his hand. "I'm Mathis."
"Creb," Caleb replied. "Cayheb Creb."
"Your name's as odd as you are, Cayheb Creb. Good to meet you though." When they shook, Caleb thought Mathis' grip might break his hand, it was so strong. "I can help you look for her. Ask around."
"I'd prefer the guards didn't know about it," Caleb replied.
"You got me puzzled again. Why not?"
