Among the Wreckage

No Space for Family [Chapter 14]

“The frontier is not policed very well,” Plip told us as we were taking dinner that night. The autopilot was set in on the course my mom and dad had decided on earlier. Since he had eaten before, Plip just sat and watched us, hands propped up on one another on the tabletop. “I don’t know who’s after you, but if they’re one of those nice rule-followers, they might not wish to follow into Beta administrative areas. And since you’re insistent you’re not smuggling anything, nobody on the other side should give you any trouble. I’ve heard there are some nice planets not far from here.”

“Nice for you or us?” Terren asked, jabbing his fork in interrogation.

Plip shrugged. “For hiding out? They would suit both of us. And it’s not like either of us can use our credits in this sector.”

My mom clicked her tongue. “Our task at hand is time-sensitive. We’ll keep moving forward. We can sort ourselves out once we’re back in familiar territory.”

My dad wiped his mouth and leaned in. “And as much as you’ve helped us, don’t expect you’ll have a full ride.”

Plip raised his hands to the air. “And you’re a lovely family here, but I do feel out of place here. Like I’m constantly being watched.”

“Play your cards right and we might let you use the synthesizer for a proper mattress,” Terren added.

Dad sighed. “What my boy here means to say is that you’ll have to earn our trust.”

“But that too will only go so far,” Mom added. “And in addition to our trust, you’ll have to earn your keep.”

---

Plip found himself mopping floors in the common area for the next few days. I never learned if he volunteered or was made to, but they did look better and shinier. A lot of that stuff had been ignored since the trouble with Grandma had begun. I was just glad I didn’t have to do it.

On the night of the second day on the same heading, I was awoken by the ship’s alarm somewhere outside my room. It wasn’t like an ‘oh, everything is going to explode’ alarm, but I doubt it was meant to go unanswered. Terren wasn’t in his bed, and I remembered that he had been assigned to stay up and keep watch on the autopilot that night.

I unlocked my room and ran out. Mom and Dad were scrambling down the ladder from their sleeping loft. Plip was at the door of the cockpit. He turned around and slid out of the way. “I didn’t do anything. Was just checking on things, the same as you.”

Dad pushed past him. “Terren?”

“Sorry, I dozed off,” said my brother groggily.

The low wailing ceased. Mom addressed the ceiling. “Mo— Aida, what was that for?”

“I’m sorry I woke you all up. It was only meant for Terren.”

“You might have just said something,” Terren complained.

“I panicked.”

Plip chuckled from beside the door. “What sort of AI is designed to panic?”

I made sure to glare at him while Grandma spoke up again. “A ship tried to contact us. So I hailed them back and asked of their reason for contacting us. They said to drop out of warp or else. And now they have joined us in formation, taking up our same speed and heading.”

Dad urged Terren out of the chair. My mom hurried to the navigation seat. “Should we drop out of warp, Jeff?”

Dad rubbed at his face and glanced about the computer screens. “I don’t want to find out what this… ‘or else’ is going to get us.”

Plip shook his head and mumbled. “The else is usually violence.”

“Aida,” asked my dad. “What’s this other ship look like? What sort of class?”

“Those crazy… warp distortions or whatever make it hard to see normally. But it is smaller than us. Like it might only fit one person. Maybe two people if they were tiny and were standing on each other’s shoulders.”

Dad grumbled and changed placed with Terren. “And what would something as tiny as that be out here in the middle of nowhere? Any other ships on the radar? Plip, is there any sort of colony in the vicinity?”

Our guest huffed and began pacing outside of the cockpit door. “I have not been offered a single glance at your navigation since we ditched Anuar. I have no idea.”

“It’s hailing again,” announced Grandma.

My dad huffed and shook his head. “I’m going to drop us out of warp then put us at a full stop. Aida, help us track its position and get us facing it to prepare for any maneuvers we might need to take.

As the streaks of warp distortions dissipated from view, I felt the frontal thrusters fire to slow us the rest of the way, the small engines hissing. My dad kept glancing between the front windows and the radar screen.

The nimble little craft that Grandma described flicked around in front of us. The two ships were practically face to face. “They are continuing to hale us.”

“Put them through,” Dad ordered.

“You’re lucky to have stopped where you did,” said the shrill voice.

“And what would have happened if we didn’t?” Asked my dad in return, eyes studying the other craft through the windows.

“You’re entering into a ship graveyard,” replied the smaller ship.

“Ships that didn’t heed your little intimidation tactic here?”

“…No, sir, I think you have it wrong. These ships came here long before us. Nobody has touched them for many years. Do you not know where you are?”

“My apologies, we are not from this area,” sighed my dad. “Please, proceed.”

“I see. My people work this space now as salvagers. There are many wrecked ships. Many old warp cores with poor stabilization. If your ship or other warp through here recklessly, it could end in great harm to yourselves or my people.”

My dad wiped his brow. “Well, that’s a relief. I mean, to hear about that now. Is there any way around?”

“You must make more distance and then you may warp, but this area requires a wide berth. You may also go through on thruster power alone. Two weeks in Alpha standard time is an average journey. But we understand the desire to pass through here quicker. I am able to guide you for a minor fee.”

My dad held his hand to the control panel to mute the transmission. “Great. We can either pay him with money we don’t have access to, or we can add more to this detour.”

“He could also just be trying to scam anyone that comes this way,” suggested Mom. “Aida, is what he saying true? What do you think about him?”

“I don’t trust him.”

Mom sighed. “We know you don’t, Mom. But can you confirm anything he’s said?”

“When I sent out a pulse to search for any other ships, I saw many. They are all broken and in many pieces. I guess there is also warp core radiation, according to whatever this other nonsense is.”

“Great, thanks,” my mom said flatly. “I’ll… leave it to your judgment, Jeff.”

My dad was already nodding. “We can’t offer cash for his service, but scrappers are, by definition, opportunists. So we might as well try to fight him at his own game.

My dad turned his head Plip’s way, who shook his head and stared back. “What now?”

Dad went back to the comms. “I’d like to invite you to dock with us and we can discuss a trade.”

My dad still had me hide behind him and Terren before the docking gate opened. The scrapper’s ship latching onto our own barely produced a tremble through the hull. Still, our systems locked onto one another effortlessly.

After the final hiss from the airlocks, the doors opened and our second guest walked onto the deck. He was barely a meter high, even smaller than me, with fuzzy brown hair and a beard. The jumpsuit he wore was covered in oil and who knows what else, and he was carrying a blocky backpack over his tiny shoulders.

He had to reach up high to take my dad’s outstretched hand. “Oh, what’s this? Ah, that shaking-hand thing. “

My dad shook and introduced himself. “I’m Jefferson, Jeff if that’s easier, and this is the Ora. Welcome aboard.”

“Cabble, from the Octrice Salvage company.”

“Come, into our common room,” said my mom, leading the way. “We may have a seat.”

I took the new visitor’s side as we walked. “Hey, so, how did so many ships end up out here?”

He looked me up and down past his bushy eyebrows. “Well, little one. This is a place you might say is neither here nor there. Neither sector calls it specifically their own. And big old spacecraft don’t just go away, so they get brought here and… blown to bits. So that pirates and other no-do-gooders don’t just use them for their own purposes.”

Terren took the chance to talk Cabbel up as well. “What’s the most interesting thing you find out there?”

The visitor wagged his finger. “Ah, old memory cells that haven’t been wiped. Recordings and files from people who served on these ships once. Not anything classified— mostly— but it is interesting to hear what they were doing or going through. Not that any of that amounts to much scrap value.”

“Okay kids,” said Mom, standing in the doorway and ushering the rest of us through. “Let’s not wear the guest out with questions. Us adults need to talk business.”

Plip was already sat at the table, perking himself up as Cabble stepped into the room. “Good day.”

My dad pulled out a seat for the little man. “Here’s the deal. We’d love to take you up on your offer, but we have no credits until we complete our delivery… far on the other side of this mess here. The boss doesn’t give us any to spare. But this fellow who has hitched to us here, Plip, is in a business you might be interested in.”

Plip put his hands together. “Good day, sir. I’m in the insurance business with Cycles Go ‘Round. Perhaps you’ve heard the name?”

Cabble shook his head and pulled off pack, swinging it to the ground before hopping up into the seat. “I’ve heard those three words, not in that particular order or grouping, mind you.”

“Cycles Go ‘Round— Time doesn’t stop, and neither do we,” Said Plip in a sing-songy tone.

I was close enough to hear my mom whisper to my dad. “Is that even their jingle?”

“Shh.”

“Salvaging, I can imagine, is a job that is not without risks,” said Plip with his made-up pitch. “Would you say that’s right?”

Cabble chuckled. “That’s just how life out in the nothing is.”

Plip raised a finger to the air, ready to make up something. “Well, while you’re out in the nothing, CGR would like to offer you something. Now, here I am on this craft whose captain has been a loyal customer for some time. So long that they’ve been able to take advantage of our high-value cargo policy… one that requires an agent present, thus me being here. Course, we’re at a little impasse here… not that we can’t not make a deal. See, we’re expanding our reach across the sector, and we welcome any and all new policies… usually for the right price, of course. But if we can get your cooperation, good Mr. Umburter here is allowed to make use of his affiliate status to sign up someone like you with a fresh new policy with us, free of charge for one standard galactic year. And you may cancel that at any point. Not that you won’t find our coverage extremely helpful come those stressful times.”

Cabble sighed and twisted around in his seat, narrowing an eye to my dad. “You would do that for us, Mr. Captain?”

My dad nodded. “We both tread treacherous paths, Mr. Cabble. There is a saying back where my people came from; you scratch my back, I scratch yours.”

Plip leaned in to seal the deal. “We can cover two… no, three craft belonging to your organization, as per this introductory deal,” he determined, glancing at my dad to make sure the fake offer seemed enticing enough. “Uh, no craft longer than forty meters, sadly. But more registrations can follow if you decide to upgrade your policy. At your convenience, of course. I would be happy to draft the forms while you take us through.”

Cabble hopped up from the seat and glanced around. I seemed like my dad had been holding his breath. “If it’s free, I can’t say no. Deal accepted, Mr. Jeff, Mr. Plip. And to be honest, not much piloting is required on my part if we want to get a move on here. I’d love for ya’ to fill me in while we get through it. If it wouldn’t be too much hassle. Mr. Jeff, show me your cockpit? Then we may set off.”

My dad let out his breath and perked up. “Ah, the cockpit. So readily?”

Cabble picked up his pack with one hand and patted it with the other. “My ship’s docked, I’ve got my tools, and I assume you have somewhere to be. Same as any of us. Am I incorrect?”

“You aren’t,” said my dad with a shake of his head. “But… is there anything I could do to make this process easier for you?”

Cabble began walking to the cockpit on his own. “A data ingress. That’s all I need.”

My dad hurried after him. “Sure. It’s just below the pilot’s seat there on the left. Port, I mean. On the port.”

The visitor hunched down and was immediately folding up the cover. “Let’s see. One, two, ten, twenty… twenty-eight contacts. Alpha C connector? Very high throughput.”

“I may have an adapter…” my dad muttered.

“No need,” said Cabble, fishing through one of the bulging, front pouches on the boxy backpack. “I’ve pulled apart and combed through ships from across six different decades, there ain’t no connector that I’ve not seen. Yours… nice and up to date. I commend you.”

“Yes, well, various custom bits in this iteration of the ship,” said my dad warily. “Hopefully whatever you intend… won’t meet its match here.”

Cabble unzipped his pack and opened a metal flap hiding beneath the fabric. I managed to look around my dad’s legs to catch sight of the IO of the strange device. He reeled a cable from the top it it, effortlessly attached a stubby adapter, and fitted it into the port below the pilot’s seat.

“Give it a little to initialize,” Cabble said, standing and wiping his hands on his thighs. “Oh, I should have said it will draw a bit of power. I imagine you have some to spare.”

“Sure,” nodded my dad, still staring at the mysterious device. “And what exactly will that allow you to do?”

The short stranger looked up at my dad then shrugged in the direction of the front windows. “It’s got a detailed map of the scrap field, including the worrisome warp cores we need to avoid. It will temporarily access your piloting, navigation and sensor systems to get us through safely.”

My dad groaned with a little bit of apprehension. “And your role in this?”

“Get it running, like I’ve already done. And then remove it once we’re through. Simple as that.”

“I see.”

Cabble patted at my dad’s hand. “Worry not. I wouldn’t be aboard now if it were some sort of dangerous task, would I? My ship is latched on to yours. But you may sit at your controls as usual to see as the program runs its course. But if I were you, I’d just take my time an’ relax.”

Mom snuck up behind Dad and whispered in his ear. “Is this going to be okay?”

Dad crossed his arms and wandered back. “I see, how convenient. And you will have time to discuss your insurance arrangement as well. Amelia, make our guest feel at home if you could.”

“Of course.”

Dad marched back to the back hall and looked up at the ceiling. “Aida, you’ve been listening?”

“He’s pleasant,” she responded lowly.

“Is that all?”

“For once.”

Dad clicked his tongue. “Well, for now, keep your routines out of the ship’s systems. Whatever he’s got running in that box, I doubt we should be messing with it or interrupting it.”

“I could figure out what it does and try to copy it.” Admitted Grandma smugly. “If I had time. I would have to be refreshed on what the sides of the ship are, too, of course. Port and…”

“Starboard,” I whispered.

Dad patted my head with a weak smile. “That’s the one. Well, same deal as before. Just keep an eye out.”