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Rediscovery: Anchorage, #6
Rediscovery: Anchorage, #6
Rediscovery: Anchorage, #6
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Rediscovery: Anchorage, #6

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An inhabited planet is not what an interplanetary mining company hopes to find while in search of rare mineral deposits, but the low-tech natives should be won over by a few ‘miracles’, right? Emily Nandi, the mining company’s legally mandated xenologist, isn’t so sure. The planet’s social structures are complex, fascinating and frustrating – she advocates research and caution rather than the seat-of-the-pants first contact the company president wants.
 
Investigator Shadow is convinced ghosts are watching him until a fellow investigator disappears, plucked from his harduk’s back without a trace. When he reappears at the city gates, naked, half-frozen and ill, he brings back a harrowing tale of strangers on a ship high above the planet.
 
From this shaky beginning, suspicion and misunderstanding fuel one culture-clash driven disaster after another, punctuated by apocalyptic prophesies from the oracle, Telluris. This is no way to get to know one’s long-lost cousins from Earth.

Series Info: Book 6 of 7

LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 3, 2017
ISBN9781386386186
Rediscovery: Anchorage, #6

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    Book preview

    Rediscovery - Sandra C. Stixrude

    About the e-Book You Have Purchased:  

    This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the authors. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

    Cover Artist: Catherine Dair

    Editor: Erika Orrick

    First Edition

    REDISCOVERY: ANCHORAGE BOOK 6 © 2016 Sandra C. Stixrude

    All Rights Reserved.

    Published in the United States of America.

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: Rediscovery: Anchorage Book 6 is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are fictionalized. Any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

    Any person depicted in the Licensed Art Material is a model and is being used solely for illustrative purposes.

    PUBLISHER

    Mischief Corner Books, LLC

    Dedication

    This one's for everyone who believed in Anchorage and wouldn't let me send it into the darkness.

    What a long, strange trip it's been.

    Table of Contents

    Title

    Copyright

    Dedication

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Chapter Five

    Chapter Six

    Chapter Seven

    Dear Reader

    Author's Note

    About Sandra C. Stixrude

    Also by Sandra C. Stixrude

    About Mischief Corner Books

    Chapter One

    Contact

    The waking cycle proceeded, as always, with the speed of half-frozen syrup. Emily knew perfectly well she wasn't 'essential personnel' when the crew emerged from jump sleep. The accelerated cycle drugs were expensive and couldn't be wasted on her. Still, it irritated her to be one of the last ones awake, always the last one to straggle onto the bridge, where she would need to ask a hundred questions to catch up.

    She couldn't decipher any of the garbled words yet in her half-waking state, but an unusual amount of chatter came over the comm system.

    Leon would tell her. No matter how tired he was from the jump, he would always stop by her console and lean against her chair to fill her in. Then he'd stretch until his spine popped and say, Gotta catch some z's, Em. Dead on my feet, before he staggered away to his rest.

    Leon Kosciusko was the Venture's only jump pilot. While the rest of them slumbered through faster-than-light travel, he stayed awake, fought the currents, and kept the ship together. It might have been less of a strain on him if he'd had a relief pilot, but jump jockeys were a precious, costly commodity. The company wasn't willing to finance more than one.

    Emily drifted further toward waking. The lights of the cubicle grew clearer, and suddenly the comm chatter resolved into distinct words.

    …medic up here for Leon! Now! Robbie roared from the bridge.

    Already on their way, McPherson. Dr. Liu's calm, professional voice implied that Robbie should be calm as well. They're coming down the tube.

    Something's terribly wrong.

    Their in-system pilot, Robbie McPherson, was a veteran of the Kohlite Marines and not easily shaken.

    Emily forced her legs out of her padded sleeping web and told her dispenser she wanted coffee, but her words were still too slurred.

    Please restate, the annoyingly polite CG voice requested.

    C-O-F-F-E-E, Emily spelled out in irritation. She had to get fully awake.

    Professor Nandi? Dr. Liu's voice spoke directly into her cubicle. I'm showing increased vitals, please check in.

    I'm up, Doc, I'm up, Emily muttered. With fingers that felt like sausages, she punched in the sequence to let medical know she was awake and relatively alert.

    As soon as she could trust herself to stand, she pulled on a coverall and deck boots and propelled herself down the zero-gravity tube to the bridge.

    Leon has to be all right.

    The bridge bustled with activity, Jen already at the debris scanner, checking for hazards, Carmen impatiently waiting for her boards to come online, and Jake dragging himself into his captain's chair, grumpy as usual right after waking.

    Darn it, Harv, get the man unstrapped and get him out of here! Jake growled at the medic leaning over Leon's chair. Robbie won't be able to concentrate until he's secured.

    Not moving him 'til I'm sure there's no spinal damage, Harvey shot back, a little less composed than usual. Don't care if you're the freaking President of the Universe; so help me, I'm not!

    Emily crept around the perimeter of the bridge to the pilot's chair. Leon slumped unconscious in his harness webbing, his head lolled over on his left shoulder.

    Harv, what happened? She kept her voice low, not wanting to upset Robbie any further.

    Hey there, Miss Em. Harvey smiled for her. Looks like exhaustion. From what I hear, that was the longest single jump Leon's ever done. Maybe the longest anyone's ever done. He managed to set the in-system auto, got Robbie's wake cycle started, and then he collapsed. He unhooked the tubes that kept Leon awake and alive during jump flight. He'll be all right, Miss Em, don't worry. You wanna start undoing his straps for me? Then we'll get him on the stretcher and down to Doc, and we'll take good care of him.

    Emily took her place at her console after Leon, whose face was as pale as his fine, blond hair, had been taken away by the medics. No rush. Her work began when they were closer to the target planet. If this one had no sentient life like the previous three planets the Venture had visited, she wouldn't have any work at all. She increased her screen magnification to get her first glimpse. The planet did look promising—blue that was most likely water, cloud vapor of some sort, icecaps. It was possible this time.

    Her job was to advise the corporation of any possible intercultural difficulties or of potential hazards or legal issues if a sentient population inhabited the mining site. Some populations, such as the Xinj groups of the Vegan system, rated over three hundred on the xenophobe scale, not surprising since they tended to eat visiting corporate representatives. Universal Trade Commission regulations forbade contact with any group that scored a rating higher than two hundred.

    Other groups required special handling, such as the Fenlis, whose rules of protocol were so complex, they could become offended and hostile if a representative wore the wrong shoes to a meeting. It was Professor Emily Nandi's responsibility as the Montagna Mining Corporation's xeno-anthropologist to safeguard the corporation from costly and potentially deadly negotiating blunders. It was also her obligation as the company's Universal Trade Commission observer to advise whether a new population rated high enough on the scale to pose a hazard to outsiders or whether a culture was too delicate for contact.

    I think we've got a live one, Em, Sri Patel said from her left. The little biologist's eyes gleamed with excitement.

    You sound so sure. Emily laughed. The last three planets had been dead worlds without even a particularly smart microbe to study.

    I feel it in my bones. Sri shrugged. Is Leon okay?

    Dunno yet. Just going to set up here and then head down to medical to check. Emily's forehead wrinkled. Harv thinks it's just exhaustion.

    Just exhaustion? What he really means is the big guy almost killed himself getting us here. Jake pushes him too hard.

    He pushes himself too hard, Emily retorted. He was muttering something about passing Tiff Holloway's jump record before he strapped in last.

    Professor Nandi? One of the techs was at her elbow. How do you want the remotes set?

    Let's wait on that, Brian, see what we have here first, Emily murmured. The title of professor still sounded odd to her. Just two years out of the university, she sometimes wondered whether she'd made a mistake. Maybe she should have stayed a little longer, doing research on Earth's urban subcultures, gathering more experience, but the real research was out here.

    When the MMC had requested a certified xeno-anthropologist, she had jumped at the chance. Alien cultures, human cultural shifts, a chance at some genuine field experience; this was what she couldn't get on Earth. The human world of origin was one huge, sprawling city with no rural economic systems, no pre-technological cultures, and few unexpected variations or anomalies.

    With her scanners set to detect possible population centers, she had nothing to do over the next two hours besides watching Robbie ease the Venture through deceleration in preparation for orbit. Emily unhooked from her console and floated back down the tube to medical.

    Dr. Liu, slim, delicately built, and usually frowning in concentration, was at her central console, bringing the last few crewmembers up out of jump sleep and completing the wake cycle rosters.

    Professor Nandi. She greeted Emily with a nod. Even though Jake insisted this was a 'friendly' company and executives and professional staff should be on a first-name basis, Dr. Liu had never been comfortable with informalities. I assume you're here to ask after our pilot. He's resting. His collapse was due entirely to stress and fatigue, not to injury. In relative time, he spent nearly fifty hours piloting through the jump currents.

    Emily sucked in a breath. Fifty? I thought twelve was supposed to be the limit.

    Twelve is the limit recommended by most physicians. Dr. Liu snorted. But who listens to mere doctors? You may visit with him for a moment.

    Leon lay stretched out on his back on one of the barris gel units. Wonderful things, they conformed to the body, supporting and supplying warmth, hugging the patient firmly and providing a cushion against sudden jolts or changes in the ship's velocity. Emily often wished she had one to sleep in all the time. The one cradling Leon was pulled over top of him as well, covering him to mid-chest, a sign his body temperature had dropped. His blue eyes were open, dazed, and lackluster.

    Hey, bud, Emily ventured, leaning against the gel unit next to his. How's it going?

    Hey, Em, he replied, clearing his throat a few times before continuing. Sorry I wasn't there for you today.

    That's okay. This time, I was there for you. She cocked her head to one side. Dr. Liu seems to think you almost killed yourself.

    Leon gave her a lazy, crooked smile. But I broke the record by twelve hours. Don't be mad, Em, congratulate me.

    So now you go in the pilot guild records as the stubbornest FTL pilot ever. Was that so important? she shot back.

    It's not just the record, Em. The impudent smile faded. My ranking goes up. I can get better fees, and one of the big freight lines or even a passenger service might pick up my contract and get me out of here.

    I didn't know you wanted to leave. Aren't you happy with the company? With the work?

    Work's fine, he said around a yawn. But some of Jake's policies are starting to bug me.

    Sirius Four? she asked, but she understood.

    Emily had advised the corporate board the inhabitants might be pre-sentient and shouldn't be disturbed, but the huge titanium deposits on the planet had proved too tempting. Jake insisted on classifying the inhabitants as animals and had ordered the 'crabbies' forcibly relocated so the strip miners could move in. Many of the crustacean-like natives had died during resettlement. The new habitat lacked the right climate or food supplies for them, and Leon had been upset. He had confided to Emily he felt responsible for the deaths because he had brought the Venture to the system. Jake reassured everyone the ecology and the crabby population would re-stabilize after the mining operation was complete. He was probably right. Jake did have decades of experience in deep-space exploration and planetary surveys, while she was a raw beginner.

    Jake should've listened to you, Em, Leon whispered, his vital signs jumping on the monitor.

    C'mon, big guy, Emily tried to soothe him. The board did listen. They could've started operations without moving the crabbies, you know. UTC regulations don't apply to the preservation of wildlife on non-sentient planets. And anyway, I'm just a contractor. It's not like the board has to take my recommendations as gospel.

    He waved a weary hand. I'm just tired. Gotta catch some z's, Em.

    Okay, Sleeping Beauty, I'll make sure we wake you up in a hundred years. Emily grinned at the exhausted snort he gave in answer.

    Back on the bridge, the target planet was coming into range, and Emily's scanners beeped as they gathered data from the planet's surface. She watched the readouts breathlessly for a few moments, not daring to believe what she saw.

    Carmen Alvarez, chief of mining operations, was scrutinizing her readouts as well and she let out an earsplitting, triumphant cry. Ha! Jake, what did I tell you? Platinum variant deposits like you wouldn't believe! Corundum under excellent sapphire conditions! This place is pay dirt, boy—

    Emily had to cut in before Carmen could go on, I've got definite population centers showing on both continents. No power sources in sight, but definite organized construction.

    Currently inhabited? Jake asked with a frown. Maybe the builders aren't there anymore?

    I can't speculate until I have more info, Jake. Emily shook her head. Even if the current populations are the builders, we're looking at pretty low-tech societies here. Initial scans show they may even be human.

    Ah, human primitives. Jake smiled. This'll be a no-sweat deal.

    Give me some time to figure out what they might want, Emily suggested.

    They're primitives, Em! They won't know what they want or need until we tell them. We'll bring wonders and miracles the likes of which they've never seen, improve their agriculture, their healthcare, their water supply, whatever grabs their attention best and is the most cost-effective for the company. Jake leaned back with a contented sigh, obviously anticipating easy success.

    As she sent out her remotes, which would observe the populations without being seen and send her back real-time vids of various locations, Emily began to have misgivings. Maybe Leon was right to be suspicious of Jake's motives. He had gotten high-handed and strange during the crabby incident. Emily almost hoped the inhabitants weren't human so she could invoke the sentient protection laws. The remotes were on their way now. All she could do was wait.

    * * * * *

    It's all right, Shadow. Sit down, please. The lieutenant waved him to the sofa in front of his sitting room fire. I didn't call you in here for disciplinary action. I want you to help me understand what's been happening out there.

    If Lieutenant Devar had shouted or assigned some dreadful punishment, this would have been much easier, but he was always so kind, so understanding. Shadow hung his head in shame, unable to meet the lieutenant's eyes as he shuffled over to the sofa to plunk himself down and bury his head in his hands.

    This was the second arrest he had bungled, and this time, he had endangered his partner as well. Sergeant Terrent had been furious, and Shadow knew he would be flogged later, as he should be, after the lieutenant had gone to sleep. But how was he supposed to explain something like this to the lieutenant, something he couldn't prove, something he couldn't even see?

    So, let's have it. Lieutenant Devar placed a cup of tea on the side table at Shadow's elbow. The tea had a hint of nightbalm scent, and Shadow knew the officer wanted to calm his shaking hands and stomach. Lightfoot tells me you've been distracted. Clearly, your mind has been on something other than your work. You don't enjoy the work anymore, Shadow?

    It's not that, sir, Shadow whispered. He often wished he could get more volume out of his scratchy, whisper-thin voice. This, however, was not one of those times. He wished fervently to be invisible, to be able to sink unseen and unheard into the furniture.

    Is it because of how that awful girl treated you? the lieutenant suggested.

    Shadow shook his head.

    But she did hurt you, the young officer persisted. I believe you wanted to propose marriage?

    Yes, sir, he admitted, feeling queasier with every passing moment. Teela was just using me to make another man jealous. She didn't want me. Yes, the memory of her laughter was still painful, her scornful words when he had declared his love for her. It still made his heart ache to think what a fool he'd been; it still kept him up at night. But, truly, sir, it's not that.

    Lieutenant Devar let out an exasperated sigh and sat next to his tracker. Then what? Shadow, talk to me, please. I know it's not easy for you. I can see how frustrated you are, but I can't help you if you don't give me some hint, some small clue as to what's been bothering you so much. This isn't like you. You're the best I have, but here we have one incident when you've tracked a thief to his room and then got so distracted he slipped away and now tonight…

    Yes, sir, Shadow mumbled and peered sideways at the lieutenant through the fringes of hair that constantly fell into his eyes. For once, he didn't bother shaking the obstructing bangs from his forehead. It was all my fault, sir. I… is Lightfoot going to be…

    He'll be fine. A bit bruised, a nasty bump on his skull, but he'll be back on light duty in a day or so, Lieutenant Devar reassured him, then placed strong, gentle fingers around his lower jaw to force his head up. Shadow, look at me. Are you ill? Do you need help?

    Over the past three years, the lieutenant's amber eyes had lost the desperate, haunted look they'd carried when Shadow had first sworn to him, but they were still intense and compelling. Shadow swallowed hard, realizing silence would only aggravate his commanding officer, and the truth could well have him discharged for mental illness. Then again, if anyone could help, the lieutenant could. Despite the fact that he was two years Shadow's junior, the investigators all trusted him with their lives and knew him to be wiser than his years. Sometimes trauma and tragedy did that to a man.

    Shadow drew in a shaky breath and decided the truth would be best. Ghosts, sir.

    Pardon? The lieutenant startled. I don't think I quite caught that.

    Ghosts. Both times. It's nothing I can see, sir, Shadow continued uncomfortably. But I'm being followed by something. Not… all the time, but those two times, it came just at the wrong moment.

    What came, Shadow? Lieutenant Devar's voice was soft, urging him on without a hint of scorn or disbelief.

    There's a… disturbance in the air, almost like a flitter lizard hovering by my head, but the disturbance is too big. It feels like it's about so. Shadow held his shaking hands apart to indicate an object the width of a man's head. There's a sound, sir, sort of a low hum. It… it makes my ears itch. But when I turn to look, there's nothing to see.

    You mean it disappears when you try to look at it?

    No, sir, that's just it. It's still there, but I can't see it.

    The lieutenant got up to pace the room. How often? he asked softly. And when did it start?

    Four… four times now, sir, Shadow stammered, staring at his boots. It started… five nights ago.

    The night after Teela heaved you over for that other young buck?

    That's what Lightfoot had said, too. Shadow's partner was convinced the disturbances were due to Shadow's agitated state of mind. Lightfoot, who'd been jumped by thugs while his partner was distracted and been beaten senseless before Shadow could intervene. Lightfoot, who would never have been caught off guard like that if he hadn't been so worried about his partner.

    Yes, sir, Shadow admitted. That next night.

    There was silence for a few minutes as the young officer considered all of this. Finally, he sat back down on the sofa. We need to look at both possibilities, Shadow. The first is that you're overwrought because of that horrible girl and your brain is playing tricks on you.

    I'm not making this up, sir, Shadow protested.

    The lieutenant held up a hand. I never suggested that. If anyone understands emotional trauma and its odd effects, it's me. You may just need a rest. He gripped Shadow's arm. However, the other possibility is that there is something unseen following you. That thought gives me chills.

    He reached across and placed the teacup firmly in Shadow's hands, motioning for him to drink. We'll address both possibilities at once. First, I'd like for you to have the opportunity to meet some nice, respectable girls. Not the kind you meet in taverns. I know it's hard for you. I've seen you struggle to talk to young women, but here's what we'll do. Lady Merinna holds dance classes for the regiments every week. I want you to start attending.

    I'd… rather not, sir. Shadow felt his heart turning to lead.

    This is an order, Investigator, not a suggestion, the lieutenant told him sternly. It's a structured, chaperoned situation. You'll be assigned dancing partners so you don't have to choose one, and Lady Merinna makes certain everyone is polite. We have had other investigators attend, you know, and I hear they've been very popular with the girls. After all, who could be more graceful than a Koss-trained agent?

    Yes, sir, Shadow muttered into his tea.

    Secondly, here's how we address the other piece. I want you and Lightfoot to pair up with Bloodmoon and Racer so the two of you are never out on assignment alone. You'll also have a leemacat with you at all times. If there's truly something there, the little ones will sense it, too. The lieutenant frowned. I have a bad feeling about this, Shadow, and, no, I don't doubt you. That's what concerns me most. Your skill, your reliability… He broke off to stare into the fire. I'll send Gushia with you—

    A rush of footsteps sounded in the courtyard and the outside door to the lieutenant's quarters burst open, a dark, dripping shape silhouetted by the icy rain outside. Shadow leaped to his feet, vaulted over the sofa, and drew his sword to place himself between Lieutenant Devar and the intruder.

    Sir! the figure cried out desperately. Diamas is gone!

    Shadow relaxed as one of his fellow investigators stepped into the room. Rustle was soaked to the bone, wild-eyed and shivering, with a livid bruise starting on the side of his face.

    What do you mean 'gone'? the lieutenant demanded as he drew the agitated little investigator inside.

    Gone, sir! Rustle wailed. We were riding on the north road, on the trail of that ruby smuggler. We were closing in, could see him ahead of us in the rain and then… then… there was a huge flash of light, this terrible searing pain, and I fell. I thought I'd been struck by lightning, but when I woke up, there weren't any burns anywhere. Not on me, not on Nightwind, not on the ground. Diamas's harduk was standing a few feet away but he's… he's gone! His voice edged toward frantic. No tracks, no trail, no sign, nothing, sir. Nothing! It was like he'd been plucked from his saddle and carried off by some huge bird.

    All right, calm, Rus, calm. Lieutenant Devar threw an arm around him and turned him back toward the door as he grabbed for his coat with the other hand. Shadow, go fetch Sergeant Terrent. We're going hunting.

    There was no reason to think so, no rational explanation for his suspicions, but Shadow was certain Diamas's disappearance had something to do with his ghosts.

    * * * * *

    Tel? Telluris?

    Her voice came from so far away. He knew her arms held him, that she was beside him, but she was thousands of miles distant. The world had become a black void, black… cold… infinitely empty. The emptiness that enfolded him was somehow twisted. Time itself misshapen and stretched so he hurtled through the void at unthinkable speed. Bright streams of light resolved into single, separate points. The blackness faded.

    Twilight on a flat plain of long grass… the people of the herds wept… something had been lost, a terrible feeling of something torn from the center of his

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