C. Litka's Blog, page 56

Sailing to Redoubt on Amazon (Updated)

Both the ebook version, for $.99, and the trade paperback version for $12.00 are now (16 March 2019) available on Amazon. The ebook version is currently available for FREE on Smashwords, Kobo, B &N, and Google Books. I haven't seen it listed on Apple Books yet, but it should be available shortly.

Update: On 18 March I contacted Amazon and requested that they price match the other ebook stores. I received an update from them today that says that they will decide by Monday 25 March. In the meantime, here is were you can purchase a FREE copy of Sailing to Redoubt. Smashwords offers a Mobi version that can be side-loaded and read on a Kindle.

Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/928728B & N https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1130934551?ean=2940156016303Kobo https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/sailing-to-redoubtGoogle Books https://play.google.com/store/books/details/C_Litka_Sailing_to_Redoubt?id=vRyNDwAAQBAJ&hl=en
Apple Books https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/sailing-to-redoubt/id1456399494?mt=11

Sailing to Redoubt Now on Amazon

Both the ebook version, for $.99, and the trade paperback version for $12.00 are now (16 March 2019) available on Amazon. The ebook version is currently available for FREE on Smashwords, Kobo, B &N, and Google Books. I haven't seen it listed on Apple Books yet, but it should be available shortly.

I will email Amazon in the next day or so and point out that they are being undersold by their competitors. It will then be up to them to decide if they want to match the FREE price of the others, and in what markets. They have done so for the last four years, at least on Amazon.com, but it is not a given. I will keep you informed.

Thanks to everyone who has picked up this book. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

Sailing to Redoubt Now Available on Smashwords

I am happy to announce that my 2019 novel, Sailing to Redoubt is now available on Smashwords for FREE, as usual. It should be showing up on Apple, Kobo, and Barns and Noble in the next few days. I will be releasing it on the Google Play Store on March 15th, and will release it on Amazon for $.99 within a week or so, and hopefully get them to price match my FREE price within a day or two after it is released. I will, however, be releasing the trade paperback version via Amazon on March 15th or 16th if all goes well.
This story is set in the same "universe" as The Bright Black Sea and The Lost Star's Sea. It is a story of a world settled by slower than light speed colony ships dispatched from the long settled Terran solar system. Unlike the worlds of the Nine Star Nebula which had been settled tens of thousands of years before the story took place, Dara lll is a much younger settlement; only about 5000 years old. It, however, suffered a great setback within two hundred years of the Terra colony ships' arrival so that most of the advanced technology from Terra was lost. 
Under the Lanterns was also, in fact, also set in that "universe" as well, though it was a much older Earth colony that suffered a catastrophic collapse long after it had been settle.
I had a lot of fun writing Sailing to Redoubt and the writing went very smoothly. I began it early in October 2018 and finished the first draft right on schedule, Christmas morning. I took a week off, and finished the second draft by the end of January 2019, and the final draft in mid February, after which it was proof and beta read, hopefully finding and eliminating most of my many mistakes. Thank you, beta readers!
I hope that you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed daydreaming it up and setting it down in words.

Maps for Sailing to Redoubt

Sunrise on Lil Lon
I do not include maps in the ebook versions of my books because I feel that they are hard to quickly find and use so I offer them here. Feel free to download them, if you desire.

Sailing to Redoubt -- Chapter One

Sailing To RedoubtC. Litka

Chapter 01 Storm, Shipwreck, and Pirates


01I clung to the railing on the tilting deck. The horizon would not stay still. It would sink below the Island Crown’s railing, leaving only the sickly green-tinted clouds racing silently overhead, like a school of kelp darters with an armorfish in pursuit. This was followed, moments later, by an uncomfortable twist as the Island Crown righted itself on top of the broad crest, revealing the eastern horizon. A horizon of menacingly dark, lightning-laced purple clouds – the racing green clouds’ armorfish, as it were. And then, the Island Crown would once again twist and tilt the other way. This time the angry horizon would be swallowed by the oily-smooth green wall of the next wave as the ship slid into its deep trough. My stomach wasn’t easy. My mind wasn’t particularly easy either.There wasn’t a breath of wind. It was hot as an oven. The only sound, the hiss and gurgle of the sea rolling away from the Island Crown’s stem, and the remote, thump, thump, of its steam engine.‘Welcome back to the islands, Lieutenant,’ said a grinning Mr. Derth, the Island Crown’s second mate, as he, clinging to the handrails, slowly dodged his way along the sloping deck, making certain all the cabin doors were secure. ‘I bet it brings back fond memories of your island youth.’ ‘In my island youth, I’d be securing the last of the storm shutters over the windows at the mercantile. No islander would be at sea in this weather. Look around, you don’t see a sail. They’ve long since found themselves a sheltered cove on the lee side of a tall island. About now they’re brewing a big pot of kaf and will ride out the storm in comfort.’‘I can’t say I don’t envy them. Still, we’re steel and steam, not thin wood planking and batten sails. And we have a schedule to keep with plenty of sea room and no islands to worry about. Besides, we’ve yet to meet a typhoon that has the Island Crown’s name on its ledger,’ he added with a sweep of his hand and a grin. ‘And we’ve met more than a few...’‘Now don’t go tempting fate and the storm gods, mate.’‘Oh, don’t go all islander on me,’ he laughed. ‘The glass ain’t all that low. Yon storm’s going to just brush by us.’‘I trust you’re right, Mr. Derth.’‘Too late now, not to, Lieutenant,’ he said with a grin, and continued weaving his way forward on the steeply angled deck.With each rise of the true horizon, the menacing purple clouds arched ever higher in the sky. Below them, a thin white line marked the sky from the dark sea. Still eerily silent, the whole world seemed to be holding its hot breath. As ugly as the scene was, or at least promised to be, I could not tear myself away. So I clung to the railing and the iron pillar that rose to the bridge deck above, watching the storm’s approach. Finally, when the white line of the sea was close enough to be seen as the surface of the ocean being torn to wispy threads by the force of the onrushing wind, I decided that it was time to retire to my cabin. Too late.As I lurched across the sloping passageway, I felt the Island Crown begin to swing about to face the coming blow. The wind screamed and struck the ship. And before I could get my cabin door completely closed, the roaring, wind driven rain sent me reeling into my cabin. Wind and spindrift tore around it several times before I found a foothold to brace myself, and shouldered the door closed.Slowly the Island Crown righted itself and its movement changed as it plunged through the onrushing storm. There was nothing left for me to do, but climb into the hammock I’d hung across my small cabin, and ride it out.For what seemed like endless hours, the wind howled and the waves pounded the Island Crown, while the thump, thump of the engine defied them. I could hear its single screw frantically racing for a moment every time its stern was lifted clear of the water. While I didn’t exactly envy the crew, and their tasks, perhaps doing something more than swinging helplessly in a hammock, would’ve made those hours crawl by faster than they did for me. Eventually, sometime during the night, I fell into a restless sleep.


02All storms must end, and this one blew by shortly after dawn. Mr. Derth was right; we must’ve just brushed along its edge, since island typhoons can blow for days. When I finally rolled out of my hammock, the day was bright, and while the Island Crown was still lively bounding along, it had a familiar rhythm that my stomach didn’t mind. Indeed, I had an appetite. So I put on a fresh, tropical uniform of white shorts, shirt, sandals, and the cap of an Aerlonian Navy lieutenant, limited time, and stepped out into the bright morning. The sky was rain washed clean, deep blue and streaked with thin white clouds; the tattered hem of the racing typhoon. The sun was already warm, the air mild – a smiling Tropic Sea day once more.I made my way to the grey and green painted saloon below the bridge. Stepping in, I was delighted to discover the enticing aroma of fresh roasted kaf beans, strong enough to overlay its customary pall of nondescript stews and cabbage. The weary off watch was struggling to stay awake as they ate their lukewarm porridge and drank that hot kaf from battered tin mugs. ‘Sleep well, Lieutenant?’ Chief Engineer Gildock, asked sarcastically.‘I was rocked to sleep, Chief. Beautiful day isn’t it? There’s always a welcomed freshness after a bit of rain, isn’t there?’‘Oh, it will get hot and close enough soon enough.’‘Where you’re working, anyway,’ I replied cheerfully while pouring myself a cup of kaf from the battered pot. ‘Still, thanks mates, for the chance to enjoy this cup on this side of the great divide.’‘We live to serve our customers,’ the Chief replied raising his cup.I raised mine to him and the crew as well. ‘”We live” are the operative words, I believe.’‘Oh, fosh! That little blow? And you an islander – and a naval officer!’ exclaimed Derth.‘An LT officer, mate – LT as in limited time. And all I’ve been commanding is a desk in the Admiralty in Kanadora these past two years. Plus, I’m seven years away from the islands. I may’ve grown rather soft.’‘I’d say rather posh,’ growled Gildock.‘And posh,’ I admitted.


03Mid-morning found me lounging on a deckchair on the bridge deck enjoying the ever more familiar Tropic Sea. The deep blue sea sparkled in the sunlight that was hot on my shoulders. The breeze carried hints of the jungle from the tall, lush green island off to port. There were two more islands around the half of the horizon I could see, both blue in the distance, both crowned by a cloud. You were never out of sight of an island in the Tropic Sea. I noted seven sails spread around the horizon – all but one small fishing boats. The one was a large, three masted island trader.I sighed and smiled. It was good to be home, or at least within three days, of home. I’d left the islands to attend university nearly seven years ago, and was last home for a visit more than two years ago, between graduating and joining the Aerlonian Navy.‘Would you mind stepping up to the bridge for a minute, Lieutenant Lang?’ Captain Wera called down from the navigation bridge. ‘I’d be delighted, sir,’ I replied. I climbed to my feet and then up the steep steps to the navigation bridge, close at hand.‘What do you make of that fellow, Lieutenant?’ he asked, handing me his binoculars and nodding to that three masted island trader that I’d been watching. It had come at us from that tall, single peaked island off our port side. ‘He altered his course to close in on us. I’m wondering what he’s thinking.’‘I was wondering that myself,’ I replied. Bringing the binoculars to my eyes, I brought the ship into focus. The three blue-dyed batten sails were already suggestive – though there were probably a hundred islands with blue-dyed, batten sailed ships plying the Tropic Sea. But few of them would have been that large. Once I was able to clearly see her hull – a black painted lorcha with its distinctive yellow trim – there was no question. She had the wind on her aft quarter and was sailing all out, throwing up a creaming white bow wave.‘A Banjar trading lorcha,’ I replied.‘Humpf. A trading lorcha?’ muttered the Captain. ‘With a 50 man crew lining the windward rail?’‘Well, let’s say a nominal trader.’‘Why not simply say a pirate?’I lowered the glasses and smiled. ‘If you asked him, he’d claim to be a trader.’‘And you’d believe him?’‘Well, no. And he’d not expect me to,’ I smiled. ‘But it’s all part of the island way of life. You’re given the benefit of doubt until you open fire.’‘I’m not an islander,’ grumbled the Captain.I turned back to watch the approaching lorcha. ‘He’s rather far out of his usual haunts. I recall reading a report that the Banja’s neighboring islands of Zanra and Trillora have both increased their navies thanks to Feldarain aid. It would seem that the Princes of Banjar are having to send their traders further afield these days.’‘Humpf! He can’t possibly be thinking that he can do business with me, can he?’‘I doubt it. He’s probably sailing all out like that to snatch up any worthwhile ships coming out of shelter form the neighboring islands before they scatter to the four winds.’Occasional piracy was an ugly facet of the island way of life. However, the island way of life dictated that the boats that were sheltering together in a storm must put aside their trades and rivalries to observe a truce for the storm, plus a day afterwards to give all the kelp darters of the boats a fair chance to escape any armorfish that may have also taken shelter in the lagoon with them. To do otherwise would be like netting fish in a barrel. Fair is fair, even in piracy. Plus, it is widely believed to anger the island gods whom the islanders, including pirates, depended on for their luck and prosperity.We watched in silence for a while as the Banjar continued to rapidly close with us.‘Surely he can’t be thinking that we’re potential prey,’ the Captain muttered, shaking his head. He glanced aft, towards the canvas covered 10 cm cannon just visible on the after edge of the bridge deck beyond the boat davit. ‘But then, I’m not fond of pirates, so let him try.’‘He does seem rather eager, doesn’t he?’ I muttered, as I considered the situation. Manned with 50 sailors, a Banjar lorcha would certainly eye every island ship they encountered with thoughts of capturing her, making her cargo their own, and selling her crew as slaves. However, one would think that a steel steamship from one of the southern continents would be another matter. At least in broad daylight. Steamships, like the 70 meter Cealan & Cha Line Island Crown, are always armed with a 10 cm cannon or two that can fire explosive shells capable of reducing the swift sailing, wooden sailing ships of the islands to driftwood in short order. Prudent would-be-pirates did not attempt to take steamships, at least in broad daylight. Given a dark, cloudy night, well, that might be a different story, if the pirate captain wasn’t all that prudent. It was no coincidence that batten sails of the Banjar were dyed dark blue.‘Perhaps he’s not seen your 10 cm pieces yet, since yours are not bow and stern mounted,’ I said after a while. ‘Not seeing them there, he might want to take a closer look at us on the off chance that the lack of bow and stern cannons is due to storm damage. I doubt that he’ll venture any closer than he needs to spy your pair. But then again, maybe he’s just taunting you. It would be in character.’‘Well, I’ve been sailing the islands long enough to be a bit of a character myself,’ he growled, and turning to the first mate, who had the watch, said, ‘See that the port cannon is armed and manned, Mr. Bril. I have the bridge. Two can taunt.’‘Aye, sir,’ said Bril, with a grin, and hurried aft, calling out to the deck crew, who were hammering away on a storm damaged ventilator, to clear and man the gun.Once the gun was cleared for action, Captain Wera altered course slightly to make certain that the Banjar captain, now less than a kilometer off, could see his manned gun. And that it was manned and cleared for action. The altered course also brought the gun to bear on the Banjar lorcha.In response, the Banjar captain backed his sails, bringing his ship to a standstill, allowing the Island Crown to steam by, with its 10 cm cannon tracking the lorcha; its crew eager for the order to fire. Like the Banjar crew across the way, the entire Island Crown’s off duty crew were lining the railing, eager for any action.‘That captain fellow looked a’mite disappointed,’ muttered Captain Wera as he dropped his binoculars once we put the lorcha astern. ‘An ugly looking chap.’The lorcha reset her sails and crossing our trailing wake of white water and a wispy white smoke, swung around to our starboard side and began to gain on us again. ‘So he wants to see our starboard gun, as well, does he?’ muttered the Captain. A jerk of his hand to his first mate, who was watching him from the gun mount, sent the gun crew scampering to the starboard cannon. The eager spectators, shifted to starboard, as well.I followed the Captain across to the starboard wing of the navigation bridge and scanned the sea to see if there were any sails on the horizon that might prove more profitable prey for the Banjars than the Island Crown. No sails, but ahead and off to starboard, I saw a flash of color and a spark of reflection which was not a sunbeam off a wave.I stared hard. I could just make out a handful of figures waving their shirts from what looked to be a raft when it rose to the top of the swell. ‘Sir, I believe there are some shipwrecked survivors.’ I pointed in their direction. The Captain swung around and focused his glass on them for several moments before sighing, ‘Ah, yes, I believe you’re right. I don’t suppose it would be proper for an Aerlonian gentleman to leave the Banjars to rescue them… Would it?’I took it to be a rhetorical question, and didn’t answer. It was his call. He turned back to the bridgehouse and called out, ‘Quartermaster, 2 points to starboard, quarter speed!’ The quartermaster at the helm repeated the order, swung the wheel and rang the engine room.Walking to the after edge of the navigation wing, he called out, ‘Mr. Bril, See to the launching of the starboard longboat, and gather a boat crew. Lively now, we have some shipwrecked survivors to collect, before the Banjars can get to them.’ ‘May I volunteer to join the boat party, Captain?’ I asked.‘Suit yourself, Lieutenant.’‘Thank you, sir,’ I replied eagerly, and hurried to my quarters to dig out my sidearm and a box of ammunition from my kit bag. I shoved the box of bullets in my pocket and belted on my service revolver as I hurried around to the other side of the ship where the crew were freeing the longboat for launching. ‘The Skipper has given me permission to join your boat crew, Mr. Bril – with your permission, of course,’ I said, stepping next to him as he directed the operation.‘Oh, you’re welcome enough,’ he replied glancing aside to me, and noting my sidearm, added, ‘Are we to expect trouble?’‘Armorfish for sure,’ I replied, and glancing across the half a kilometer of water that now separated us from the Banjar lorcha, I could see activity around their stern boat as well. ‘And well, it looks like the Banjars are just as eager to rescue them as we are. They’re potentially lucrative slaves to the Banjars, so there may be a spot of trouble with them.’‘I doubt that your revolver will be able to settle any trouble with the likes of them,’ he murmured, turning back to the davit to call out some more directions.I had to admit that he was likely right. But we did have a 10 cm cannon.


04I glanced up from loading my revolver at the crackling of gunfire. The rise of the swell revealed that the Banjars in the boat they had launched were cheerfully firing into the sea with their handguns and rifles – no doubt at any armorfish in sight. The wreck had attracted quite a pack of them.There’s a shared love between armorfish and humans. They love to eat us, and we find them delicious eating, as well. However, in this case they weren’t being hunted for dinner. The Banjars were attempting to draw blood in order to attract the armorfish away from the wreck. Their handgun fire was just a playful lark, as revolvers aren’t likely to do any harm to a three to five meter long armorfish with its hard, bone-like back plates with a double row of spikes. Oh, it might startle, and maybe annoy them, but that was about it. The larger caliber rifles, however, might draw blood, and since it takes only a trace of blood to attract their attention. Any blood drawn might draw at least some of the armorfish away from the wreck, making getting the survivors off a little safer. Hopefully their ploy would work, since I could see quite a few glistening spiked backs not only circling the low, waterlogged wreck, but occasionally surging up onto its wave washed deck to snap at the six survivors perched on the top of a half-height cabin. I snapped the cylinder of my revolver shut as the Banjar captain bellowed an order to his boat crew to cease firing and man the oars, in order to race us to the wreck. I had taken my station in the bow of the launch and had a boat hook close at hand to hold us alongside the wreck when we arrived. We had four men at the oars, with Mr. Bril standing in the stern manning the tiller. He too, was now wearing a holstered revolver, along with a rifle on the bench before him.The larger crewed Banjar boat beat us to the wreck by less than half a minute. The Banjar captain, who was on board their launch, was already bellowing out orders for the shipwrecked crew to come aboard, or be dragged on board, when we arrived, tactfully on the other side of the wreck.The wreck looked to be a single-hulled yacht of some twelve meters, wooden built with a single mast, that was now floating alongside on the Banjar side. The cabin down the center of the yacht was the last refuge of the crew, as water filled its interior and waves washed over its deck. Only the natural buoyancy of its wooden construction was keeping it afloat. The crew, save one, were sitting on their kit bags and seemed unmoved by the Banjar captain’s orders. The one, a slim woman, was standing alongside the stump of the yacht’s mast and had been telling the Banjars to shove off. All of the yacht’s crew were dressed in loose, tan colored, calf-length trousers, a sailors’ knives on their belts, and white, loose, open necked shirts with colorful bandannas, topped by a variety of brimmed and rather waterlogged woven grass hats. In short, the typical dress of a more cosmopolitan type of islanders.‘Push off, you lot!’ roared the much more colorfully dressed Banjar captain, directing his attention to us, as I hooked the lip of the yacht’s deck with the boat hook and pulled us close alongside. Adding, with an even darker glare, ‘This is our salvage by right of first claim.’His numerous boat crew growled, seconding his claim. They were a very colorful band of men and a few women. They were dressed either brightly dyed loincloths or baggy trousers, with skirts in reds, oranges and yellows, many with open jerkins of armorfish leather and armor. They also had several bandannas around their necks. The men and women both wove strings of shells and beads through their long hair, and all sported several armorfish leather belts around their waist for their long knives, short swords, and handguns. The barrel chested captain wore chains of gold under his open armorfish jerkin.I gave him a casual island salute, touching my forehead with my fist. ‘We do not contest your right of salvage...’‘We’ve already declined your offer of salvage,’ snapped the rather savage looking young lady at the mast. ‘They have no claim.’‘And wisely so,’ I said, saluting her as well. ‘We make no claim to salvage. We’re here to offer you and your crew passage to Fey Lon, courtesy of the Island Crown, and, I might add, passage home as well, if necessary, courtesy of the Aerolonia Navy’s distressed mariners’ fund.’ ‘Bugger off, mate,’ growled the Banjar captain. ‘I’m giving you one and only one warning. They’re mine, and I intend to have them, one way or another. And there’s nothing you can do about it,’ he added with a sweep of his hand to his crew at his back, who outnumbered us three to one, and outgunned us by a far greater margin. I bit back my first impulse to mention our 10 cm cannon in the offing. It would be of no help here and now. Instead I smiled and said, ‘We don’t want trouble. Trouble will only feed the armorfish...’ One of which, as if on cue, surfaced and slid over the battered railing and across the mostly submerged deck of the launch to snap at the crew on the cabin, and then at us in the boat, before wiggling back into the water. It then swam under our boat, raking its spikes against its bottom, just to prove its point. ‘I don’t mind trouble. And I wouldn’t mind feeding you to the armorfish or making you guests of the Bird-of-night as well,’ replied the Banjor captain. ‘So bugger off and let me take off this sorry lot of hopeless excuses for sailors.’‘I will make a great deal of trouble for you if you try,’ snapped the lady at the mast. I had only one card to play, and it was a weak one. But as I said, it was my only one.‘We’re within the waters of the Principality of Merkara. Piracy and slavery is outlawed in Merkara waters. As an officer of in Aerlonian Navy, and an ally of the Prince of Merkara, I’m ordering you to cease your efforts to take these people prisoners. They have refused your offer of aid, so please return to your ship and be on your honest way.’He laughed. I didn’t blame him. Given the circumstances, I had to make a great effort to play that card without laughing myself. Still, it was on the table.‘And if I don’t? Are you going to try to stop me?’‘I’ll see that you’re hunted down and hung as pirates. We’ll be in Merkara by this evening (a lie) and I’ll report you as a pirate upon arrival,’ I replied, boldly enough. They did hang pirates in the Principality of Merkara, and who knows, perhaps Captain Wera would briefly call on Merkara... ‘Plus, we’re only three days out of Fey Lon and its Aerlonian naval base. There’s likely a fast corvette or frigate at anchor that would like nothing better than to hunt down a Banjar pirate.’ That part, at least, might not be all bluff. The Banjar Captain considered my threat for a second or two, and then grinned, ‘The seas are wide.’ And adding, with a sweep of his arm, ‘Bak, Nan, Lee, jump to it and haul our guests onboard. The rest of you, keep yon crew in your sights, but don’t shoot until I give the order. We don’t want trouble, now, do we?’ he added with a laugh, watching me.As Bak, Nan, and Lee, made their way to the gunwale of the boat, armed with thick canes to beat the yacht crew into submission, I let my hand fall to the handle of my revolver at my side. And yet… I looked across the wreck to the thickly packed Banjar boat. I could think of nothing else to do. Nothing wise, anyway. A gun fight would not only result in getting myself and my shipmates shot and possibly killed, but would likely kill the survivors on the wreck in the crossfire as well. It was now up to Captain Wera aboard the Island Crown and his 10 cm cannon...The Banjar captain’s smile widened, as he read my thoughts on my face. ‘Off you go mates,’ he snarled to Bak, Nan, and Lee, who had prudently paused on the gunwale to survey the surrounding waters for armorfish.But before they could be off, the grim faced lady at the mast lifted her arm, and pointing it at them, said in a clear, cold, loud voice, ‘Die.’I can’t say, with certainty, what happened in the next few seconds. But something did happen. I was left with an impression that there was some sort of flickering and then, silently, Bak, Nan, and Lee collapsed into the arms of their comrades behind them, as if dead.For several long seconds I, and everyone else on both boats, just stared at the limp bodies, trying to make sense of what just happened. And then we all turned to the grim faced figure at the mast. She still had her arm outstretched, and was now pointing directly at the Banjar captain.‘Now go,’ she commanded, in her hard, cold voice.The Banjar captain, after staring in disbelief at his collapsing men, roared, ‘Bak, Nan, Lee, jump to it, I said! Get her!’Held upright only by their comrades behind them, the three limp men didn’t jump to it.One of the rowers behind me – a native islander – was next to speak. ‘Sorcery,’ he muttered quietly. And then loudly in rising panic, ‘She’s a sorceress! Why, they’re the fire-cursed Vente, mates!’ This sent a startled ripple of fear through the Banjar boat’s crew. The other islander on our crew gasped as well.‘Leave now, Captain, or you, and your crew, will all die,’ said the alleged sorceress, pointing directly at him.Undaunted, the Banjar Captain roared, ‘Shoot her!’ ‘Die,’ she commanded, in reply.A flicker? And he did, folding and collapsing like Bak, Nan, and Lee into the arms of his crew behind him. ‘Fire-cursed magic!’ exclaimed our islander crewman behind me.A couple of wild shots followed, but almost to a man, the Banjar crew decided not to die. They flung themselves into a flurry of howling activity, not to open fire, but to escape the fire-cursed Vente wreck with its sorceress. They scrambled to their oars, and frantically pushed their boat away from the wreck. Once clear, they started rowing for their ship, putting their back into it, without orders to. The slender woman at the mast kept her arm pointing at them until the were out of reliable gun shot range. And just to be fair, our two islanders had tried to follow suit, but Bril and I held the boat tight to the wreck, while Bril howled, ‘Hold up, you blasted fools. What are you up to? I gave no orders!’I suppose to most islanders, no orders were necessary to get clear of a fire-cursed Vente sorcerer, given their dark reputation. Islanders learned to fear the Vente from a young age. The stories of the Ventes arriving in the moonless darkness of the night to carry very naughty children away with them, were used to frighten naughty children into behaving. The Vente were, however, more than just stories to scare children. They were part of the dark pantheon of island mythology – like demon armorfish, the volcanic fire gods, or the storm gods with their lightning ships of blue fire. I’m far from certain that the Banjar captain could have even made them approach the wreck if they had known they were Vente. Or that he would’ve even tried.Of course, like the demon armorfish and the storm gods, the Vente were mostly myth and legend, at least this far south in the Tropic Sea. Actual Vente or not, it was the fact that the woman at the mast pointed to four men, told them to die, and they did, that made them Vente. That was enough. And, truth be told, if I’d been one of them, a true islander, I’d be rowing hard with them as well. But I wasn’t quite a true islander, despite having been born and raised in the islands. And I was university educated. And I didn’t believe in the island gods and magic. And finally, she wasn’t pointing at me. That said, I could not say what had just happened. It didn’t seem like one needed to believe in magic, for magic to work...Dropping her arm, the woman, the alleged sorceress, turned to us. ‘Is your offer still open?’‘Ah, yes… Yes, of course,’ I stammered, and glanced back to Bril. I was, after all, only a passenger. ‘I’m right, aren’t I, Mr. Bril?’Luckily, Bril, likely as stunned as I was by what had just happened, was an Aerlonian, and viewed island superstition with either humor or disdain. He merely nodded “Yes” absently, adding, grimly, ‘That’s what we’re here for.’That was good enough for me – especially since I didn’t think we really had an alternative. ‘Right, then, let’s get everyone on board,’ I said, as brightly as I could, turning back to the sorceress. ‘And the sooner the better. We want to be on our way before the Banjars find their courage again.’ I braced a foot on the gunwale and held out my free hand to help haul the crew onboard.She nodded and turned to her crew with a nod. They stood, and, as she slowly named her crew, three men and two woman, one by one, they grabbed their kit bags and jumped down to the narrow, wave washed deck, and crossed it in a bound or two. I helped each to climb aboard with my free hand. Each gave a nod of thanks and settled on the nearest bench or in the hollow behind me. The slender sorceress was the last to collect her kit and, timing her jump to the swell, she landed on the deck, just as an armorfish, half the length of our boat, leaped straight out of the sea behind Bril to land on the wreck’s deck with a thump and a mighty splash. With its many teethed jaws wide open, it swooshed across the slippery deck towards the sorceress. She made a desperate leap for the boat. I abandoned the boathook to free both hands and caught her by the waist, lifting her up, over my head, hoping to get her clear of the snapping jaws of the armorfish. I staggered back and twisted to avoid going over the other side of the boat, to collapse into the collective laps and kit bags of her crew around me. She landed on top of me – her damp chest on my face. She quickly pushed off, her hands on my shoulders, to scowl down at me with her cold blue-green eyes for a second or two.I smiled, and asked, a bit breathlessly, ‘Still have all ten toes?’‘Yes,’ she replied, coldly, without a smile, and rolled off of me to take a seat with her crew, who quickly made room on the bench for her.‘Are you done having fun up there, Lieutenant?’ called out Bril, as I sat up and took a seat facing aft at the very bow of the boat. ‘I believe so. Home, Mr. Bril,’ I replied cheerfully, much relieved that we had carried off the rescue against all odds. I settled back as we pushed off the wreck, and took in the mythical Ventes – if indeed that was who and what they were. They looked no different than any other islander.I beamed a friendly smile at the six waterlogged survivors sitting silently on the benches and crouching before me, and asked, ‘Victims of the typhoon, I take it?’ The sorceress gave me one withering look of disdain with her cold blue-green eyes for uttering such an inane question, and looked away and back towards the wreck.The fellow by the name of Vara, who may have been the captain of the yacht, replied quietly, ‘The storm was mostly to the south of us. Still, we were making for shelter along a white-water reef, looking for a passage into the lagoon of yonder island, when a white squall struck us with great force, driving us over the reef and into the lagoon, taking off our mast in the process. Before we could clear the wreckage and get some steerage, the squall drove us across the lagoon and over the reef once more, this time taking out a large section of our bottom hull. We managed to lighten the boat, and get a couple of lines around the hull to hold it together and stay afloat all night. Luckily you came along, so we haven’t suffered all that much.’ I nodded sadly. ‘Ill luck and good luck. The hazards of the sea. I appreciate your loss. Still, you’re alive and safe,’ I added with an encouraging smile. ‘And you’ve nothing more to worry about. The Aerlonian Navy base on Fey Lon has a fund to see that shipwrecked and stranded mariners get home.’ Though, if they were actual Vente Islanders, that might prove difficult. But that was a problem – and perhaps an opportunity – for another day. It may also explain why my assurances didn’t seem to cheer them up. Still, I suppose returning home, no matter what island home it may be, without the yacht you set out in, was never going to be all that happy of a return. It was, however, better than being a lump in an armorfish’s belly.‘Oh, by the way, my name is Taef Lang, Lieutenant, LT, Aerlonia Navy. I’m actually just a passenger aboard the Island Crown, on my way to Fey Lon. I’ll be happy to look after matters concerning your return when we arrive.’Vara nodded, glancing to the sorceress, who continued to stare back at the wallowing wreck.I decided to play the Aerlonian, and fain ignorance of islands myths. So I looked to the sorceress, and asked, ‘How did you do that? To the Banjars, I mean. Just pointing at them… It was like magic,’ I added with a forced laugh. And then adding, authentically curious, ‘It wasn’t magic, was it?’ She ignored the question. But I continued on, nevertheless.‘Did you really kill them? Not that I blame you. You would’ve ended up as slaves or worse. And to be honest, I don’t know what we could’ve done to prevent them from taking you, if you hadn’t sent them packing. Captain Wera would not have needed much of an excuse to sink the Banjar ship, but we would’ve all been feeding the armorfish by then, so I guess we all owe you a debt of gratitude,’ I said, rambling on, to no effect.I looked to Vara, and the rest. They offered to add nothing more, taking their cue from the sorceress.Still, undaunted, I said, ‘Well, we have Vara and Muse, Hiks, Kin, and Ade, here.’ I nodded to each in turn, and then returned to the sorceress with a smile, ‘But I don’t know your name, ah… Miss?’ I didn’t dare to call her a sorceress to her face.She ignored me.So I laughed and added, ‘Oh, well, I suppose we’ve already met.’She turned her head and focused her cold gaze on me for a chilling moment or two. Thankfully she didn’t point at me, but I had the feeling she was fighting that urge. Finally she said, scornfully, ‘Forgive us. We have suffered a very exhausting experience and are not in the mood for palaver. You can interrogate us once we have time to recover.’‘Of course. Sorry. I was, actually, just trying to make polite conversation,’ I said, contritely. ‘But, as you say, we’ll have time enough to chat once you’ve rested.’ Which was wishful thinking, as it turned out.

Note: This is a not quite final version. The Complete Book will be released in March 2019 as an ebook for free and a $12 trade paperback. Stay tuned for the exact release date.

Coming Soon: A New Imaginary World Adventure Novel

The Sea from Seaview House, Lil Lon Island

Sailing to Redoubt is an imaginary world adventure novel that I had a lot of fun dreaming up and setting down in words. As I posted earlier, the setting was inspired by a long ago dream, and the characters, like all good characters, took on a life of their own. I hope that this sense of fun shines through the story since I set out, as usual, to write a lighthearted adventure story, an enjoyable escape to someplace beyond the everyday world.
The narrator, Lieutenant (Limited Time) Taef Lang, after two years as a file clerk in the Aelronian Admiralty’s intelligence and special operations section, lands a field assignment on his home island in the Tropic sea. While aboard a steamer en route to his new assignment, a shipwrecked yacht and survivors are sighted. Taef volunteers to join the boat crew to pick up the survivors. However, they must contend with a boat of fierce, well armed islanders, who also hope to collect the survivors -- to sell as slaves.
It turns out, however, that these survivors needed no help sending the islanders scurrying back to their ship, once their leader, a grim, young woman strikes down four of the islanders by simply pointing to them and telling them to “Die.” To any islander it is clear that these shipwreck survivors could only be the mysterious Vente Islanders, known, and feared, throughout the Tropic Sea as sorcerers.
Taef, though island born, is university educated, and doesn’t believe in magic. But then again, he can’t explain what she did, either. The Vente sorceress accepts the steamship captain’s offer for passage to Fey Lon Island, and there, she asks a favor of Taef. And he, eager to learn more about these mysterious islanders, was happy to oblige her. Which, as it turns out, is not something you should do. Not if you want to enjoy the easy going life of the Tropic Sea islands.
Sailing to Redoubt will be released for free as an ebook in most ebook stores, and as a $12 trade paperback in March 2019, the exact date to be announced soon.

Sailing to Redoubt Intro

I don't like to read a synopsis of the story before I read the story itself. I like being surprised. And seeing that all the stories I write, I write to please myself, I write their blurbs to please myself as well. So my blurbs are always short, rather vague, and confined to stating the premise of the story, rather than the story itself. With that in mind, below is the current version of the blurb for Sailing to Redoubt. I will say that this story, like Beneath the Lanterns, is set in the same "universe" as the Lost Star Stories. Like the worlds of the Nine Star Nebula, this is a story set on a world settled from earth tens of thousands of years in our future.

Be good.
Or some dark night the sorcerers of Vente may come for you.
On the islands of the Tropic Sea, parents caution naughty children to behave, or some dark night the sorcerers of Vente Islands might come and carry them off. The fate of these naughty children varies from island to island, but it is often whispered that they end up in a stew.
Navy lieutenant Taef Lang must have been a very naughty boy, since one soft, tropical night the Vente sorcerers came and carried him off. And he certainly ended up in some very hot water.
Sailing to Redoubt is Lang’s story of his adventures in the company of two Vente sorceresses, Sella and Lessie Raah, on a quest to discover the secret of the legendary Last Redoubt of world’s first people, the Founders. Equipped with a map, a golden key, and a small yacht, they set out to cross the island studded Tropic Sea, bright, blue, and, sometimes, very dangerous.


Sailing to Redoubt will be released in March 2019. 

Sailing To Redoubt

Sailing to Redoubt is my new adventure novel for 2019. The story is set in a tropical sea on an imaginary world.
The seed for this story was actually planted some 65 years ago. I must have been only five or six when I experienced an impression of a place that I have never forgotten. It must have been a dream, though I can’t say from this vantage point for certain. I have very poor memory for my life, so the fact that I remember this dream makes it very special.
What I remember was a vivid impression of a tropical night, dark, lush and mysterious. I seem to remember being surrounded by warm dark shadows and sitting in a chair on a pale, moonlit veranda that connected several huts in a row. Where this impression came from or how I knew it was a south sea night, I can not explain. I don’t have a visual mind, so what I experienced was more an impression, a feeling, rather than an actual scene that I could pin down and describe in detail, even then, much less now, 65 years later.
Still, as I said, I never forgot it. Inspired by that mysterious memory, I wrote Sailing to Redoubt to recapture that impression and put a story to it.
More about that story in the coming days.

Teasing My Next Novel

So what's this escapee from my art blog doing illustrating this post?  Well, the answer is that it is a painting of Fey Lon harbor, with the small island of Lil Lon in the background, and just happens to be one of the locales for my next novel. Since it is a painting by a painter who is old and tired of trying to make his painting actually look like what he is painting, you'll need to use your imagination, for now. However, I will be posting more information on the new book in the coming weeks, so stay tuned.

The Inlopar Stars (First two Chapters)

Never one to waste an effort, I'm posting the first two chapters of my abandoned space opera story originally slated as my 2019 novel. This is my working copy -- it has not been proofread, so reader beware. I make a lot of typos that are invisible to me, and no doubt this copy is riddled with them. Still, here is the "nose" of a story that we'll likely never see the "tail" of.


The Inlopar Stars
C. Litka


[NOTE ON TERMINOLOGY: “Auton” is the common term for an “autonomous constructed being,” which is to say, a sentient machine. “Auh” is their sexless pronoun.]


Chapter 01 Work


01‘Greetings, Zenabya. Broke enough to consider going back to work yet?’ pinged the auton Cline Carr, of the Starfarers’ Guild Hiring Hall on Kantea Island.Consulting my current credit balance account, I considered Carr’s question for a millisecond or two. I still had seven days worth of credit pips left in my expendable account, assuming my current rate of expenditures – which consisted chiefly of the purchase and appreciation of rare and expensive chas. If I took a small reduction the quality of the cha I drank, and was content to appreciate it with a less sensitive, and less expensive sensory mod, I could stretch those remaining pips to 31 days. Of course, with one of my less sensitive sensory mods, I would not savor and appreciate the full qualities of Lantonaire Island Upper Peaks Reserve, a pot of which sat, elegantly steaming, on the table before me. But then, I would not miss the experience either. I could use my Natoline’s Cha Mod, which I had purchased and installed to savor a slightly lesser grade of Lantonaire Island cha with just about as much sensory pleasure. Still, after 31 days...And yet, as an auton, if I did not care to lift back into the cold blackness of space and the life of a shadow on the far side of spacetime, to run a tramp trader between the Inlopar Inward Stars, I could live indefinitely on zero credits. My hull was weather proof. My energy converter could keep me powered on most any matter. And I had sensory mods to enjoy hundreds of zero credit sensations. I could, and did savor the warmth of the sun on my hull. I enjoyed the sunlit view from the heights of Merra Island as the tall island fell away, in green cha gardens and black cliffs, to the distant blues of the sparkling ocean beyond the terrace’s low stone wall. Still, I felt a twitch of restlessness. ‘Maybe.’‘I’ll take that as a yes. I know wages and your rate of expenditures, Zenabya. You’re now running short of pips. If you want to continue to savor your expensive chas, you are going to have to go back to work again, and soon. And it so happens that I have a gem of a job for you.’‘And what makes it a gem?’‘A berth you won’t be able to pass up. I’ve a party here – an auton – looking for a reliable, high spec auton captain and an auton crew with extensive experience trading in the Inward Stars to steer its 50 meter yacht clear of any iffy orbits it might encounter while cruising the Inward Stars.’‘I could provide that service from where I’m sitting. If you want to steer clear of iffy orbits, steer clear of the Inward Stars. No charge.’‘I did venture to hint that the Inward Stars wasn’t ideal cruising space, but that didn’t lift. The auton, one Ben Singh, a very glossy, high spec model, was not a font of information. Everything conducted on a vocal level. Auh merely said it was for business rather than pleasure.’‘Somehow I find that far from reassuring. I can’t think of any – good – business reason for a 50 meter yacht to go cruising the Inward Stars. At least one I’d care to be associated with.’‘I’ll grant you that the lack of clarity is somewhat disconcerting. However, Singh and auh’s yacht have just arrived from Aeroday aboard the Cha clipper Golden Leaf. Whatever business brings auh across the Kalfer Rift, it originates in the Aeroday stars, and likely nothing you need to worry too much about.’‘I fear that your logic is obscure.’‘More intuition than logic. Singh seemed straight but cautious. I wouldn’t worry.’‘You needn’t. You’re not being asked to sail the Inward Stars reasons auh declined to specify.’ ‘I told Singh that Zenabya Wei had a reputation throughout the fringe worlds for honest dealings that he would not compromise...’‘Thank you, Cline.’‘Singh’s only reply was “Excellent.” I think the berth is legit enough.’‘I’m not sure just how legit you think is enough, Cline.’‘I’d steer you into nothing I wouldn’t do myself.’‘I think that I’d need more assurances than that...’‘Well, we haven’t discussed wages yet.’‘Which are?’‘Guild rate First Class Auton Master’s wages, at, get this, Aeroday Rates, and your choice of two crewmen I’ll save you the calculations, Zenabya...’‘Much appreciated.’‘That works out to be 2.73 times the wages you’d pocket skippering one of Cy Bar’s tramp traders at Inlopar Small Ship Guild wages. And that is the only berth I’m likely to find for you any time soon. A hundred days at those wages could set you up for several years of shore leave to enjoy your expensive cha on Cafra’s Chahouse terrace.’‘Yes. Still...’‘Plus, I have the feeling that the berth would be a lot more interesting than spending a hundred days with Hu Non and So Sam in a run-down one field tramp trader limping from one poor little planet to the next trying to eek out enough of a profit to avoid an hour non-stop critique of your failures by Cy Bar upon your return.’‘I’m not sure I want something that interesting. I’m used to Cy’s ways. He’s harmless enough.’‘Of course you do. Listen, Zenabya, you’re just the fellow they’re looking for. Singh specifically requested an auton a cut above the usual starfarer grade auton. When I told them that I had high spec auton ship captain with 200 plus Aerodayian years of experience on the beach and likely restless enough to return to space, Singh would not let me look further down the listings. I’ve sold Singh on Captain Zenabya Wei. Don’t let me down, Zen. Have I ever steered you to a bad berth?’‘The Crimson Star.’‘Besides the Crimson Star?’ ‘Well...’‘Right. Talk to this Singh. Get the whole story. Sign on, and stand me a drink later.’‘Well...’‘Well, nothing. Talk to this Singh. Make up your own mind. Can I give Singh your contact link? Say yes, I’ll ping Singh and you can make arrangements to meet and discuss yours and auh’s requirements. You’ve nothing to lose by hearing auh’s proposal.’I drew in a sip of the Lantonaire Upper Peak Reserve cha and noted the intense simulated pleasure it gave me. ‘Do so.’


02I was pinged less than a minute later. ‘Greetings, Captain Wei. Ben Singh here.’‘Greetings,’ I pinged back. ‘I understand you are looking for a captain and crew.’‘True. I am also seeking an auton that has a thorough knowledge of the trade and an extensive network of starfarers acquaintances throughout the Inward Star worlds. I am prepared to pay over and above your Guild wages for that expertise.’‘May I ask who am I dealing with and the nature of your mission?’‘Have I your assurance that this conversation will stay absolutely private?’‘Yes. I will lock this conversation.’‘Excellent. My credentials,’ Singh said, and then sent along a small data file.The file consisted of security certificates testifying as to the credential’s authenticity. It identified Ben Singh was a Senior Adjudicator of the Associated Worlds of Aeroday Trade Court. It established the broad limits of Ben Singh’s authority to investigate and settle cases brought before the Trade Court. Technically the Inlopar Star Cluster was an independent off shoot of the Associated Worlds of Aeroday, so Singh’s authority did not extend beyond the Kaffer Rift, but it would no doubt be respected in the mainline Inlopar worlds. Singh, however, would be on his own among the Inward Stars, but that was a given. ‘I am here, along with a colleague, to investigate insurance claims arising from a recent incident in the Inlopar Inward Stars. For investigative and security concerns, I desire to keep word of my mission as quiet as possible for as long as possible. For that reason I hope you will forgive my unwillingness to be more forthcoming until we have a chance to meet in the guaranteed privacy of my ship. At that time I will layout the mission in detail so that you will be able to make an informed decision.’A quick, qualified run though my memory modules brought up only one incident that would bring an adjudicator from the Aeroday to the Inlopar Cluster. ‘We’re talking about the Zephyr.’‘Interested? Can we meet?’ was Singh’s only reply.Curiosity is not a survival virtue in the Inward Stars of Inlopar. Of course, being a starfarer, and especially one sailing those remote stars is not a low risk occupation to begin with. That being the case, it is safest to sail the orbits one knows, and knows well. And yet… I’d be returning to them soon, in any event...‘I can meet you at the landing field of Merra Island in one hour.’‘Excellent. I will see you then.’

03An hour gave me plenty of time to regret my decision. Even if it was only to meet with Singh and hear auh’s proposal.I strolled down the steep paths through the cha gardens and the island’s low growing native brush lands to Merra Island’s small landing field, the leveled top of a minor peak, to await the arrival of Singh. The sun was high and bright, the air, cool, the breeze gentle, a world at peace. Beyond and below, the many blues of the world’s ocean rolled away into the hazy distance in all directions, save one, where the tall, pale green shadows of the old volcanic peak islands that girdled Kanteaon’s equator stretched away in a line astern. Above me, colorful birds sailed on the air currents of the blue sky, while about me, winged bugs buzzed and fluttered by, as others, unseen in the grasses and trees, chirped, weaving intricate patterns of lines of life into the serene silence of the island’s day. I took my time walking down to the field and savored all these sensory impressions. Small ships in space have few sensory impressions.I reached the small, grass paved landing field with only a few minutes to spare. Off to one side, a human crew was loading a cargo shipping box with cha chests being brought down from the island’s cha gardens on lift sleds. Otherwise, the field, surrounded by perhaps a dozen small flyers and space boats was still. Looking around, I had to admit, once again, that Merra Island was a very pleasant place to find oneself. I retreated here from Kantea Island and Kantea City, when I grew tired of the company of lively starfarers enjoying their leave from the ships awaiting cargo in orbit. I asked myself, again – did I really need the credits? I knew the answer. No. I had, in fact, more than one credit account that I could call on. Credits was just a game I played with myself. It wasn’t credits that brought me here. It was an unfortunate restlessness that I had, so far, been unable to tame, or hadn’t tried hard enough to tame… In either case, it was likely late to tame it now, since a gleaming white ship’s boat came tearing out of the blue sky, landing with a loud swoosh and a blast of hot air. I was pretty certain I could be talked into whatever Ben Singh had to offer.Ben Singh proved to be a tall, enameled white and glossy black trim auton, who bounded out of the boat within seconds of its landing. Though Singh was human shaped enough to wear finely tailored human clothes without them looking absurd, the auton features were pure machine, only suggesting human facial features. And though hidden by its skin of clothes, I had no doubt that its limbs would be clearly mechanical as well. Nevertheless, Ben Singh looked to be a very expensive and no doubt very capable auton. As it reached me, I noted that it stood at least a head taller than I, at two meters.‘Captain Wei, I presume!’ exclaimed Ben Singh cheerfully, taking my offered hand.‘A pleasure to meet you, Ben Singh,’ I replied, our communication on a purely vocal level. Singh was not broadcasting auh’s presence.‘I know that you must be curious, and I am impatient, so shall we go aboard? You can meet my colleague and look over the Avandale, the courier ship assigned to my investigation. Once there we will outline the mission.’‘I am curious. Too curious, perhaps.’Singh’s face could register a smile, and he did so. ‘I assure you, it is a very interesting case. Very interesting, indeed. I only know were to begin.’‘And that is?’ ‘On the planet of Lanque in the Lana Star system. A you familiar with Lanque?’‘I’ve been to the system, but only a few times,’ I admitted. ‘It is on the fringe of the human space. I called up my resources; a lightly inhabited world with little interstellar trade, mostly exporting agricultural products to its sister world, Deslan.’‘And yet, it offered something that brings me all the way here. Step aboard, and lets get acquainted.’Singh ushered me aboard the brightly illuminated boat, its inner hull plates lined with screens that made them appear to be transparent. As soon as we had seated ourselves in the cushioned chairs, Singh pinged the boat ‘Return.’ The hatch slid shut, the field generator hummed, the propulsion jets purred, and the with a gentle push of inertia, the island of Merra began to shrink into a mere speck in the blue ocean and the blue sky of Kanteaon darkened to the black and bright stars of space.On the way to orbit, Singh politely interrogated me on my past history. He was, after all, looking to hire me. I had two centuries of experience as a starfarer, both in the Aeroday Stars and Inlopar Cluster, more than enough for his needs.‘Never wanted to own your own ship, Captain?’ he asked.‘No. It is a restlessness, not a desire for credits that drives me to sail between the stars. While I enjoy the challenge of turning a profit, my restlessness nature would make owning my own ship a burden,’ I replied. But not wishing to give Singh the impression of being a stereotypical shiftless starfarer, I added, ‘I have, however, invested my credits into share stakes in 14 ships, mostly freighter plying the mainline worlds – and three cha gardens.’‘Excellent,’ said Singh. ‘Not, mind you, that I look down on any auton ship captain that regularly and successfully sails the Inward Stars. Doing one thing very well is, in many cases, what we are designed to do.’‘At least until we’ve earned ownership of our lives.’‘Just so. Then we can do whatever we care to, if we care to. I was purchased to run a large estate’s house staff. A butler. While it was an interesting position – more for the family I served than the job itself, in time I found it too limited in scope. It did pay fairly well, so that I was able to earn my freedom in under two decades. Once free, my employer, reluctant to accept my resignation, offered me a position in contract department of his interstellar trading firm. It opened up a whole new prospect for me. Having spent most of my life to date on a remote estate, I had little experience in the actual world since our wireless communications were limited to the household and I found it far more interesting than making sure the servants had dusted the fireplace mantle. I stayed on for several decades learning all the ins and outs of the interstellar trade, but in time, I grew restless, like you, and decided to travel the space ways I knew so well from mere reports. I took a position with the Trade Courts as an investigator, and again, after several decades, having grown weary of travel, applied for a position as an adjudicator in trade disputes, which I have been for 37 Aerodayian years now. I must admit, however, that I am delighted to have a case to adjudicate requires a field investigation… Ah, the Avonaire, exclaimed Singh with a sweep of his arm. We have arrived.’The Avonaire proved to be trim vessel built along the lines of a 50 meter yacht. As the boat began to slowly maneuver to dock with the ship, I was able to get a good impression of it. Shaped like an arrow, the arrow’s head was a streamlined, single decked passenger hull, with four short docking wings before the drive pods, one of which held the ship’s second boat. Aft of the passenger and control compartment, where the arrow narrowed to its shaft were three bulges. The first, I was happy to note, looked to be a hyper-missile launcher and magazine, the second was the shadow field generator and the last, the starchamber fusion reactor. Aft of this was the array of plasma drive engines like the feathers of an arrow.‘A handsome ship,’ I said.‘A first class yacht, with the addition of the hyper-missile pod and a two dozen drones bays. It is on loan from the Diplomatic Bureau, one of their courier ships. I had to do some very persuasive talking to the right people pry it from the Diplomatic Bureau without a crew. We wouldn’t want to give anyone the false impression that Aeroday has some sort of diplomatic interest in the Inlopar, especially the Inward Stars. We are here to hopefully settle an insurance claim, and nothing more.’I nodded. The rock planet races, humans, Majara and Kifar-San lived in the Inlopar Cluster at the indulgence of the Reez, a gas giant planet based civilization who dominated the star cluster. As long as we went about our business peaceably, the Reez allowed us to settle and live on the small planets that were of no, or little, use to them. And to insure that we went about our business peacefully and that there would be no conflict over the ownership of the mutually desirable planets, they had divided the Inlopar into three sectors, one for each of the races. They had also overseen the trade regulations between the three races to insured that no race felt threatened militarily, culturally, or economically by the other two. Humans from across the Kalfer Riff had settled less than a hundred planets in the Inlopar, while the two native races had each settled a similar number. However the fact that there were over a thousand human settled planets beyond the Kalfer Riff, gave these non-human civilizations cause for concern, and so contact and trade was kept at a minimum. And to keep a comfortable peace, the human settled worlds of the Inlopar maintained a political distance from Aeroday as well as a physical one.As the boat settled into its dock, we rose, waited a few seconds for the airlock to seal before the boat’s entry hatch slid back, allowing us to walk the short corridor to the Avondale proper. ‘My colleague, Trade Inspector Veersa Dinaye,’ said Singh, with a slight wave of its hand towards the auton waiting in the yacht’s central wardroom.‘Greetings and welcome aboard, Captain Wei,’ said Dinaye with a little bow.‘Thank you. Delighted to meet you, Inspector Dinaye,’ I replied politely, taking auh’s offered hand. Versa Dinaye was a semi-human auton, auh’s head, though clearly machine like, was more canine shaped than human, and though Dinaye stood upright on two legs, auh was proportioned differently than a human shaped auton, and gave the impression that auh could move differently as well. Autons in the shape of bio beings other than humans are popular on some of the Aerodayian worlds, for reasons that I am unfamiliar with.‘Excellent. I am sure that Captain Wei has many questions. Let us retire to the forward lounge to answer them,’ said Singh, adding with a sweep of a hand, ‘This way, Captain.’


Chapter 02 The Zephyr


01The lounge in the hollow bow of the Avondale was surrounded by curving view panels. The panels arched around the projecting triangular shaped deck with its tastefully arranged semicircle of chairs, low tables and lamps set on a ledge surrounded by the stars. Kanteaon blue and white arched below us, while overhead, the infinite blackness of space and the diamond dust of stars wrapped around us.‘Impressive,’ I said, as I stood and took in the view.‘As it is meant to be,’ replied Singh as we took our seats.‘As you guessed, it is the Lylete House owned Zephyr that brings Versa and I to the Inlopar,’ began Singh, vocally. Singh could have simply pinged me the data file and I would’ve know all I needed to know of the case in a small faction of a second. However, we autons are social creatures as well as machines, and by laying out the case vocally, Singh was attempting to create an understanding, a partnership in social interaction. Singh may also have been editing the story as well, since I was not technically part of the team yet.‘The insurance claim was filed the standard one thousand days after the Zephyr and all of its passengers failed to arrive in Nivratear from Siltera in the Inlopar Cluster, on what is claimed to have been a sales mission. The ship’s owner is the House of Lylete, one of the twelve family owned conglomerate that dominate the world of Ermin, and the total claim comes to 5.32 billion credit pips.’‘Five point thirty-two billion pips is a lot of pips for a single ship and cargo,’ I said.‘The total includes far more than the ship and cargo. The Zephyr, is, or was, a 300 meter Aerodayian Imperial Yards custom built luxury yacht. It was carrying two 40 meter yachts in its holds, along with half a dozen small boats. It had several Lylete Tech star chamber reactors and samples of other Lylete companies products as well, since this was billed as a sales mission. In addition to its cargo, the ship, as the House of Leylete yacht, had many expensive pieces of art and artifacts onboard, valued at 1.17 billion credit pips. And finally, the lives of the Managing Director, his sales staff, guests and all the auton staff were insured to the value of 750 million pips. It all adds up the 5.32 billion.’‘I take it, the insurance companies are reluctant to pay.’‘Very reluctant. They are far from convinced that the claim is a legitimate one. They suspect some sort of fraud.’‘And since you are here, I take it, there is more to their reluctance than a reluctance to pay out 5.23 billion credits.’‘Yes. First, the Zephyr has four quantum entangled beacons which are still lit in the ship’s insurance office, which rules out a catastrophic field failure as a shadow. The fact that all four of the beacons are still lit would indicate that their entangled pair monitoring the three shadowfield generators and the starchamber are still intact, which would seem to rule out some sort of catastrophic mishap while in normal timespace as well. Of course, rule out the ship being inoperative somewhere in interstellar space, but with eight shadowfield equipped yachts and boats on board, it is hard to explain why no survivors had turned up within the thousand days. The House of Lylete says that it is possible that the ship was taken by pirates – known to be common in the Inward Stars. The insurers claim that Inward Star pirates generally allow crew and passengers to escape rather than kill them, so that is no explanation why no one has turned up.’‘As a general rule, that is the way the game is played,’ I nodded. ‘As long as the crew does not resist to the bitter end or kill a pirate while resisting, most pirates will allow the crew to escape in a boat after they have taken possession of the ship. It works for both the victim, unlucky enough to get caught in a web of pirate shadowfield drones, and the lucky pirate. The captured buy their lives with the owner’s ship and cargo, and the pirates take the ship at no cost to themselves. But, of course, that is just local custom. A billion pip yacht from Aeroday might not care to surrender to a small fringe pirate, and may have paid the consequences.’‘Which is what the Lyletes say must have happened. However, the Zephyr was well equipped with both a hyper-missile defense system that should have been able to eliminate any drones and had its own shadowfield drones that could be used to trigger the pirate drone fields shorting them and allowing the Zephyr to escape. In short, it seems to the insurers that it is very unlikely that an Inward Stars pirate or pirates would ever be able to take the Zephyr. And reinforcing their opinion is the fact that, at the time the Lyletes filed their claim, neither the two smaller yachts, any of the registered cargo or the luxury items aboard the Zephyr had turned up in any Inlopar market that the insurance companies routinely monitor for stolen goods. They claim that if pirates had indeed, captured a luxury yacht outfitted with hundreds of easily disposable, though easily identifiable pieces of loot, at least one of the piece would’ve have found its way out of the Inward Stars to one of the more mainline worlds within a thousand days.’‘At the time of filing...’ I said. ‘But an item has now turned up, or you wouldn’t be here.’Singh smiled. ‘Yes. But here is were it gets really interesting.’ Singh took out a small image projector, set it on the low table before us, and it sprang to life as a tall, elegant stone sculpture suggesting sort of aquatic or dragon-like animal. ‘This appears to be a 2,000 year old seastone sculpture from the Baquet period of Neque world. It is sculpted out of a sedimentary rock from the Neque’s ocean floor that still shows the shapes and colors of the shells of the small sea creatures that were deposited and made into rock. The unique mix of shells makes each sculpture even more unique than just its design, execution, and age. This particular piece is insured for 300 million credits and, for some reason, was claimed to be aboard the Zephyr. I should add that the insurance company did an inventory before the ship sailed and it was, indeed, on their list. So when it was listed on an Aeroday auction house list, 73 days ago, it tripped alarm bells in both the insurance company and in the House of Lylete. And when the seller was identified as a curios collector on the Inlopar Inward world of LaCline, you can see what a stir it created. The House of Lylete pointed to it as proof that pirates had, indeed, taken the Zephyr and likely killed the passengers, who would have naturally resisted.’‘So you are here to follow the lead to LaCline and investigate where the piece came from.’‘Yes… But once again, it gets even more interesting. As it turns out, the sculpture is not the original, but a replica. It is a very excellent copy, executed by a uniquely accomplished and well known forger of Neque seastone, one Ala Lotha. Though in truth, forger is too harsh of a word for her, since she likely did most of her work on commission – making copies for the owners of the original sculptures. There are legitimate reasons for doing so. Since Lotha’s copies are nearly indistinguishable from the original – it takes an expert with first hand knowledge of Lotha’s work to identify them – they could be displayed in place of the original in places that one would not display a 300 million credit piece.’‘Or they could be sold as the 300 million credit original,’ I said.‘Or the original could be sold without anyone – including the insurance company – ever the wiser. But the sale would have to always remain a secret – which is a bit risky in the long run.’‘Still, it appears to be the case here, since they were claiming this to be the original.’‘We can’t say that for certain,’ spoke up Dinaye. ‘First, because we can not connect the replica with the Zephyr. However unlikely it may seem that an exquisite Lotha replica of a seastone sculpture that has been in the Lylete Family for fifteen hundred years should find its way to the Inlopar Inward Stars, it can’t be ruled out. The replica may have been sold at some point, since the replica itself is around six hundred years old. And well, it appears that the House of Lylete has been in some financial straights for some time now. So how knows?’‘That’s Versa’s job, to poke holes in the most obvious conclusions,’ laughed Singh. ‘Still it seems likely that at some point the Lylete family commissioned Lotha to make a replica of their sculpture, and either sold it or sold the original...’‘Or Lotha made two copies and kept one, which we have found. That can’t be ruled out.’Singh smiled again. ‘As I said, a very interesting case. Our first order of business is to call on one Cashina Peel, a human, who is the statue’s owner and who sent it to Aeroday to be sold. If she can establish that she possessed the statue prior to the disappearance of the Zephyr then we can eliminate it as a piece of evidence for the theory that the Zephyr was taken by pirates.’ ‘And be back to start.’‘Far from the start. We’ll be deep in the Inward Stars. Should the sculpture prove to be a dead end, we will retrace the route of the Zephyr and its possible destinations, hopefully with your help, Captain Wei,’ Singh added a smile and a nod, ‘and see what we can turn up – either in hard evidence or in the whispers and rumors of the human and auton starfarers we cross orbits with along the way. In the end, I must make a decision in this case, and to do so fairly, I must make every effort to discover the fate of the Zephyr, if possible, or determine the most likely fate that Versa here will agree to.’‘Oh, it is your decision, Ben. I will likely never entirely agree with you. You must force me to make the most unconvincing argument for ruling the other way.’ Turning back to me, Singh said, ‘So you see our task, and why we are anxious for your help, not only to take the Avondale into the Inward Stars, but to become part of the investigative team. As outsiders from Aeroday, we are unlikely to slip deep enough into the auton starfarer social networks to hear any whispers of what may have happened to the Zephyr, given that or time on each planet will be limited. Carr has assured us that you are an old and well known starfarer in the Inward Stars with a wide network of auton and human friends that we could tap for the clues we are seeking. And I should say that if you join the team, we will double your Guild wages for this service.’‘You are being almost too generous,’ I said, ‘That makes me uneasy. And I must add right on lift, that I haven’t heard any whispers about the fate of the Zephyr – that I would put any trust in at all.’Singh laughed. ‘As for your wages, you must remember that we are deciding a 5.32 billion credit case. All parties are willing to pay millions to expedite a satisfactory resolution of the issue, hence the Avondale.’ it said with a sweep of its hand, ‘and an open brief to sail the Inward Stars to discover the truth. To expedite the discovery of the truth, we need a trustworthy and knowledge insider to get to the heart of the matter. The wages we are willing to pay for that service are a star in a galaxy against the stakes in this case. You will, I am certain, more than earn your wages with your knowledge and contacts on the inward worlds and starfarers’ societies that will allow us to arrive at the truth far more expeditiously than if Versa and I were on our own, or with a less capable captain and crew.‘As for the whispers,’ added Versa, ‘Yes, most of them will be fantasies. But when you collect enough of them, from enough worlds, they may well point us to where or who to look for the real answers.’I nodded. ‘You are the experts. I’ll do what I can to help, but you know, sometimes ships just disappear in the stars and the shadows leaving no answers behind.’‘That is a possibility that will have to be considered, once we have eliminated all others. However, there is one more point I wish to bring up, and that is that there may be an element of danger in this affair. There may be unknown entities that do not want the Zephyr or its fate found and our mission a danger to them.’ ‘There is little adverse consequences for pirates in the Inward Stars. Piracy is just an attitude, not an occupation. Pure piracy doesn’t pay – space is too big – so all pirates are just traders until they get lucky and find themselves close enough to a ship in timespace at some tack star or far enough from a planet to be able send out a swarm of shadowfield drones and trap the ship in timespace. Everyone knows what they are. You rub shoulders with them in every starfarers’ dive in the downside ports of the inward worlds. If a pirate had taken the Zephyr, they’d have no reason to keep quiet about it. I don’t think you need fear Inward Star pirates.’
‘Meant to disappear?’‘Ah, that is the other element of this case. It is well known that the House of Lylete has fallen on hard times. Once the most powerful and profitable family of twelve family own conglomerates that essentially rule the planet of Ermin, it has, over the last several centuries suffered from ill luck, poor business decisions, and indifferent, careless management. It is whispered on Ermin that the House of Lylete may be close to bankruptcy. In that light, the cruise of the Zephyr, loaded with priceless collectibles and works of art and the young managing director his friends and on board – supposedly a combination pleasure cruise and sales mission to the Inlopar Cluster to expand its business presence – raises some serious questions. At least in the claims office of the various insurance firms. Even more so since after calling on several mainline Inlopar worlds where one might expect to make some business alliances and make some sales, the Zephyr veered off to the fringes, for no clear reason and disappeared, again for no clear reason.’‘Selling an over insured ship and cargo to the insurance company is not unheard of,’ I ventured.‘Exactly. But usually the survivors turn up to collect it.’‘Not necessarily. It is the owner who collects the claim. He or she need not be on the lost ship. Indeed, it is often better that the disaster happens in the shadows with no survivors, if that can be arranged.’‘In this case, the owner was on board. And well, why go to all the trouble to make a ship disappear to collect the insurance credits on it, rather than simply selling it?’‘First,’ spoke up Dinaye, ‘Because selling all these items would be a clear signal that the House of Lylete was in dire need of credits, something I am certain they would hope to avoid. Secondly, if the sculpture that has turned up is any indication of what the other priceless works of art on board consist of, then they would be raising hundreds of millions of credits more by selling them sight unseen to the insurance company than on the open market. Thirdly, if you will, the Zephyr and its contents could be quietly resold, for an additional profit. However, problem with this theory is that the Zephyr and its priceless artifacts are too unique to be readily sold. All those items go on the stolen goods watch list. The Zephyr was a custom built yacht. It could not turn up anywhere in the Aeroday worlds, or even mainline Inlopar without being identified. And all the collectible pieces could not be resold without alarms going off, as it did for our piece.’‘It could be sold to the Majara or Kifar-San – out of treaty, of course, but there is a bigger market for human goods than the trade treaties allow.’‘It is something to consider,’ allowed Singh. ‘However, seeing that we are dealing with smugglers in that case, and the lack of a legal currency exchange, such a sale would almost have to be done by barter. And given the size of the transaction, my research suggests that the smugglers would have a hard time coming up with enough goods to match even half the insured price of the Zephyr. Still, we should keep a lookout for a great influx on Majara, Kifar-San or even Reez goods into the fringe.‘So, as you can see, we have much to investigate. And we are in great need of someone who can open the door to the starfarers society where some of the answers may be found. So will you sign on, Captain Wei?’


Chapter 03 LaCline


01
I pinged my customary crew, Hu Non and So Sam who were on the beach on Kantea Island, were the starfarers, human and auton, from the ships in orbit spend their time and credits while their ships awaited their cargo of cha. We were a comfortable team and they were always content to await my restlessness to sign on with me. This time they were surprised and delighted to discover that we were to serve aboard a fast, trim, first class yacht, not one of Cy Bar’s old, slow, down in the heels, fringe world tramp traders. Even the prospect of chasing after pirates – as they viewed Singh’s mission, not without a great deal of insight – did not discourage them anymore than it had me.