Behold the Interstice

By Gabe Sluis

I want to tell you a story...
... About an asteroid miner who only wants to make his way in the Five Worlds; a woman cursed by endless cycles of rebirth; and of a boy imprisioned in a tower, having committed no crime. All search for a solution to their problems, believing in a rumor of a man who freely travels the levels of existence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gabe Sluis
• Release date: Apr 24, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463024638

Gabe Sluis

Gabe Sluis is a hobby writer, primarily exploring Sci-Fi and Fantasy. The books are not series based, yet many common characters and places are seen throughout novels and short stories alike. He has published five novels, six short story collections, and a children's book. Check out his latest short story collection, PROVISIONS or the new novel ANCILLARY.Please leave a review on wherever it is you download your books! I love coming on to see new downloads each day, and I would love to hear what you think after you've given it a shot!

Book preview

An alarm roused Charlie from his sleep, but did not fully wake him. With the gravity down to twenty percent and the room at five degrees, he had no desire to get out of bed and check his cameras. He drifted back to sleep, knowing the chimes would stop eventually.

He found himself sitting bolt upright on the edge of his bed.

The intensity of the alarms increased. His facility had been breached.

Charlie Four pulled on the boots at the edge of his bed. He punched the console on his desk, bringing the gravity back to one point two and the temperature to twenty-two.

Brixton! he shouted to the empty room. What is going on?

The main shield on tunnel one has been penetrated. Back-up emitters have been destroyed by weapons fire.

Weapons fire? It wasn't debris? What punched through?

Charlie was in a panic. He grabbed his tool belt off a workbench and wrapped it around his thick waist as he ran out of the main room of his temporary prefab base. Charlie ducked his head as he entered the long hallway that lead to his ship.

A pair of small ships approached the asteroid approximately ten minutes ago and began scanning the emplacements. Initial alarms were sounded, but you did not react. Forty five seconds ago, the shield was dropped by a pulse from inside the entrance and one of the ships entered. It then proceeded to open fire on the emitters.

Where are they now!? he shouted, sprinting past the door to the equipment garage. A large explosion shook the ground under his feet, causing him to trip headlong. Before the giant man hit the ground, the hall went dark. Gravity evaporated. Instead of sliding to a stop, Charlie floated horizontally off at an unexpected angle.

Brixton!

"The main generator of the Pearl has been hit by the attackers, the virtual intelligence reported. The back-up is coming on line now."

Light returned to the hall, much dimmer than it had been moments before. Charlie reached out with his arms to steady himself as gravity returned, drawing his large body down to the floor. An ear-splitting grinding reverberated through the mining facility, followed by the acrid smell of burning metal.

What are they doing to my ship? the miner cried, climbing back to his feet.

Plasma torches are burning through the outer skin above the cargo hold. I believe they are going after the contents of the cargo hold. The first ship has just deployed two armed individuals. They are entering the hole they have bored.

They’re going after my pay-dirt! Activate the ships shields! Do something! Charlie shouted arriving at the door to the grounded ship.

The ships power is offline, Brixton reported back. Furthermore, the hull has been breached and devoid of atmosphere.

Charlie turned and sprinted back to the door to the equipment garage. He slapped the door control and grabbed his extra large void suit from its place on the wall.

Reverse the gravity on the ship! Slow them down until I can get in there!

The attackers are armed, Charlie Four. You have no weapons in this facility.

Without those elements in the hold, I'll be totally broke! I can't let them rob me of an entire years work!

Another small explosion rocked the facility as Charlie finished hastily pulling on his bronze colored void suit. The sense of urgency redoubled as he clicked his gloves into place and took off back to the door to his damaged ship.

What's going on in there? Charlie puffed as he slapped the door control once again.

The attackers have taken a total of eight crates to their ship. The reverse of gravity slowed them for a moment, but they have adapted. Be aware, that if this door is opened without proper pressurization, there will be a violent escape of atmosphere from the hallway, pulling you into the ship.

Got it! Charlie said, pulling an anchor gun from his tool belt and blasting a hard point into the floor of his station. He attached a mining safety line between it and his suit as he gave his next command to Brixton.

Put the gravity back to standard two seconds after the door is opened!

The giant man, suited and anchored to the floor, used his muscular frame to brace for the depressurization. The door to the ship shot open instantaneously. Charlie withstood the force with relative ease as he unclipped the line and dodged into the ship.

Soundless threads of faint light caught Charlie's attention out of the corner of his eye as he took cover behind a bulkhead. Quick glances toward the ships hold from random shifting points completed his view of what was happening inside his ship. A perfect, round hole, several meters in diameter had been cut through the ship in front of the door to the cargo hold. A suited figure stood security outside the wrecked door as another of the raiders was taking crates of mined materials up a line to their waiting ship.

Charlie cursed at the intruders inside his suit, heard by no one except Brixton. Can you open a universal line to them?

I have been transmitting since their entrance to the asteroid, but they have declined to answer.

Is there nothing else I can do? Charlie said out loud, pulling his head back from another glance. He rest his head against the wall, lost in frustration. Do you know if they took my grains of tropellite? The heavy metals and argyrodite I could lose, but the tropellite is worth more than everything else back there!

The contents of the hold are unknown to... Brixton said, cutting himself off. Both intruders are retreating back to their ship.

Charlie jumped to action. He darted around the bulkhead sprinting for the open hole in his ship. Looking through the puncture, the two suited figures were just being pulled inside a belly hatch as their ship repositioned itself to exit the asteroids internal cavern.

The giant stood helpless in his ravaged ship, looking up at the raider crafts. As the belly doors slid closed, one of the figures leveled a carbine at their victim. The other raider pushed the barrel away from its target and gave a friendly wave to Charlie as the doors sealed.

The ship slid away, leaving Charlie alone once again.

Hunkered down in the pilots chair, Charlie Four leaned against the armrest, hand covering half his face. In his hand was an ancient data pad that was powered by a rigged up power pack, which was not original to the device. Charlie studied the schematics for the ship, written in a half-understood language. He drew out a pocket-mounted translator and read the foreign words aloud, their meaning spoken back to him. He worked line by line. Deep in concentration, a chime from Brixton interrupted his trance.

"Sir, a ship is approaching and hailing. I identify the vessel as Auklet. Shall I disable the defense turret?"

That's fine, Charlie said, putting the pad down and rubbing his eyes. Send a message to Shang. Tell him it's fine to come in. Not like there is anything to stop anyone anyway...

Charlie moved his considerable mass with the additional weight on his mind. He exited the ship, returning to the prefab base. As he trudged over to the work garage, the distinct sounds of a maneuvering ship passed overhead. The giant stood over by the airlock, listening to the sharp sound of the ship blasting an anchor line into the rock outside the garage. Presently, the airlock began to cycle, pinging as gas filled into the chamber.

Four! We came over as soon as we heard! the fat man grumbled, waddling in his pressure suit. Shang Feam was a typical example of a lifelong asteroid minor. He had considerable bulk, a white unkempt beard over chubby cheeks, and wild hair.

Behind him strode a mechanical skeleton, holding the suited body of a young man not blessed with arms or legs. The black bones of the encompassing prosthetic made the son of Shang nearly the same size as Charlie. Rider Feam had always been hard for Charlie to read. He had heard the boy speak no more than a few times, and did not expect him to on this occasion. Rider stood passively off to one side, not engaging in the exchange. The mechanical boy, a cleft lip and hair covering one eye looked over Charlie's equipment with little interest.

Did they make any demands before they broke in? You should have given them what they wanted! Shang scolded the younger man.

They didn't say a word before they took down my main shield and started blasting...

Smash and grab, Shang confirmed. The sensor buoy out on F-134 showed them jumping in the system out here. They musta hit you on chance, or the fact you got one of the biggest claims in this region.

Charlie nodded. "Did you see what they did to the Pearl?"

That's a damned poor thing to do to a ship. I'm sorry, son.

It was my great-great-grandfathers. He used it in the crusades. I've been looking over the documents he had on it... I just don't know if I can repair that hole properly, without it taking months, Charlie said. And if I'm absorbed with working on the ship, there’s no money coming in...

That is an unforgivable thing to do to a ship, Shang nodded, pacing around the mining equipment absently. "Ships are the life of men such as us. Without our ships, we are as well off as any common man stuck on a planet. To sink a ship, one as beautiful and old as that Pearl of the World, is akin to murder. You can shoot a man and he can heal. Shoot a ship and rob a man of his means to repair her..."

Yeah, they cleaned out my hold. I finally had a good setup here. Things were finally getting comfortable and profitable. I had enough to put up shields, pay off the prefab and install an intelligence to manage things... Now this place is all shot up and I have nothing to put it back together.

Shang threw a hand against Charlie's shoulder. I've had setbacks myself. You gotta just keep going. I know you first generation miners come out here thinking you'll work the rocks for a couple rotations, strike it rich and retire to some paradise on Balius. But grains of tropellite are not as numerous as the stories miners tell. It's a life's work. Few strike it rich finding a nugget larger than my thumb.

I still have hope, Charlie said. But without a ship, I have no chance at finding another grain. It'd probably take half a nugget to repair that old thing anyway...

Take a week to cool off. Don't think about it. Get back out in your tunnels. Nothing clears the mind like carving through conglomerate. Get yourself some stock and I'll come by in ten days. I am close to needing a run to the Inaba station. I would be happy to give you a lift to sell what you can, and pick up some material. Rider is decent with ships. He doesn't have much experience with jump systems. We have only run on star-locked skiffs, but he is smart. Aren't you, Rider?

The sullen boy nodded without looking at his father.

No. I'm not for putting you out. I can get her patched up somehow and make a run in...

You are taking my help, boy! You are not putting us out. We were planning a run in soon, anyhow. Don't be stubborn on this! I know how us minors hate to depend on others, but that’s how it is this time.

I appreciate it, Shang, Charlie Four said. I can scrounge up something in ten days. I need to repair the entrance shield if I can. I put up a defense turret, but it's not enough... I will give you a call in nine days to coordinate a pick-up.

Do that, Shang said, slapping Charlie on the arm. He motioned for his son and the odd pair left the cluttered garage.

Charlie stood still for a moment as he heard the visiting ship cycle up its engines and leave the tunnel containing his base.

Where to start? he thought to himself, still wallowing in the defeat.

Eventually he moved, not out of force of will, but unexpectedly, for no reason at all. There was work to do, recovery progress to be made. He had been thrust to his ropes end; no choice left but to move his hand and begin to climb, ignoring the fact that the rope was on fire.

Chapter 2

The Golden Lantern cut through the waves of the southeast Pacific as if remaining in place, the ocean preferring, rather, to pass about. The custom yacht was the size of a battle ship, exquisitely maintained, designed and styled with maximum economy. No smoke stacks or other form of engine exhaust was emitted from its entirety. Darkness settled over the rough blue ocean, and the ship sailed northward.

Down below, in the cargo hold, Mitri Glezhot was taking inventory, ensuring the stability of the stacked field crates that had been returned to the ship earlier in the morning. His eyes were red and he moved slowly as he pounded nails back into place on the second to last crate to be logged into the hold.

He supposed he should not be frustrated at having to work late into the night while the majority of the crew had drinks and celebrated returning from the field expedition. For most of the deployment, he had little work, being assigned to the ship. All he had to do was supervise the offloading of supplies once they had reached the Chilean beach camp and relax until the explorers had returned. Two full days of work and a month away from his family were nothing compared with how well he was being paid.

He finished pounding the last square nail into place when he heard a peculiar sound from the direction of the holds elevator. Mitri craned his neck, and seeing nothing, climbed down from the stack, and left his clipboard in place. He wandered through the stacks of pinewood crates toward the origin of the sound.

Boss, that you? he asked in his thick Russian accent. Come to check on me?

He rounded the corner of a particularly large stack of crates and slumped to his butt at the sight of the non-manifested cargo. He scrambled for his radio with one hand and his thin pistol with the other hand, shaking and uncoordinated. He aimed the pistol from the hip, rather than down the sight, and called on the handheld radio.

Bill! Bill, come back! It Dmitri! I need security team to hold! he said, trying hard not to lapse back into his native tongue.

Mitri realized his weapon was uncocked, so he dropped the radio in his lap and fiddled with the pistol. Every member of the crew was issued the slim, small caliber pistol, but it was Mitri's first exposure to firearms. The radio came back to him as he readied the gun, keeping his eyes locked on the unexplained arrival.

An hour later, Bill Trainer stood in front of the door leading to the ships stateroom. He collected his thoughts and let out a held breath as he built up the nerve to knock. Unsure whether he was heard over the faint music coming from deep within the yachts most luxurious living quarters, the shipmaster raised his hand for a second attempt. Before he could bring his knuckles down onto the dark wood, the music cut off. He swallowed and cleared his throat as he sensed the approach of the ships owner.

Lora Clark opened the door. She held the edge of the door by one extended arm, the jam in the other. While Bill Trainer had been in the presence of his employer many times on their present journey, he was still initially taken aback by her presence. To own a yacht of this caliber at just twenty-eight years of age spoke to her intelligence more than any person he had met in his life. And while many people of intelligence in this day and age were odd and unconcerned with appearance, Lora Clark was the complete opposite. She was beautiful, with shoulder length straight dark hair, intense eyes and a practical nature far different than most wealthy individuals. As it was the beginning of the night, she wore loose tan slacks, a sweater, and full-length housecoat that was untied at the waist.

Mister Trainer, I trust this is an important visit for you to be disturbing me after dinner hours, she said flatly.

You will have to forgive me, Miss, but something most surprising has been found down in the hold that I think you will want to see.

Did a creature get into one of the equipment crates? she asked, posture softening.

No, Miss. I can explain as we walk, if you like, Bill said, stretching out his hand, leading in the direction of the hold.

Lora wrinkled her brow, drew her hand off the back of the door, bringing a holstered pistol with it. She affixed the weapon to her waistband, below her navel, and wrapped the housecoat around herself. Bill shuffled and took the lead, explaining as they went.

We checked the manifest several times over and the man that found it had just completed a full inventory. It was Dmitri, one of the Russians you hired as a deckhand. He came down a stack and found the damned thing sitting between himself and the exit. He nearly shot it out of fright.

They went down two flights of metal stairs.

What exactly did he almost shoot, Bill?

That's why we came to you. You seem to be an expert in these things. That's what you investigate for Doctor Hahn, right? Unusual things? This thing had a note taped to its head, Bill said.

He stopped short of the entrance of the hold and stood aside. Lora went past him without a pause, turning the final corner, coming directly up to the back of the robot.

Lora paused, head jerking backward in surprise. With curious suspicion she circled around the robot like a shark, carefully eyeing the out-of-place machinery, yet keeping her distance. On the catwalk above the entrance to the hold, three men stood spread out, rifles at the ready, lowering their barrels when their employer stepped into their field of fire.

Lora inspected every operational group of the robot as she circled, three times. The interior mechanics were encased within an off white outer layer, protecting functionality. High points on joints were covered with angularly rounded sections of thick metal armor. The head was nearly human shaped, with a flat, black, pentagon where a face would sit. The torso had several small arms wrapped into itself, stowed for functionality. The back had what appeared to be a folding wing set and rocket, compactly designed, and different in form from the rest of the robot, yet still painted white. This was all fully integrated into the main body housing. A pair of leather satchels were secured to the torso, away from panel coverings. The complex machine seemed to imitate human form in a majority of ways, apart from the base. The robot would most definitely move on the dynamic tracked base, which had treads that resembled the flexible movement of snake scales.

Lora finished her initial inspection, standing face to face with the unexplained addition to her ship. We did not collect this in Chile, she spoke to no one.

After a moments pause, she took a step forward and removed the note, a small slip of yellow paper folded in half, taped to the robots equivalent of a chin. On the outside fold, written in perfect pen strokes, was two words: Lora Blickton.

Lora Clark opened the note, read the contents, and took a step back. She addressed her over watch.

Thank you, lads, but I can handle this myself. She raised her voice to be heard by all, Clear the hold. I will not be interrupted.

Chapter 3

"Imagine a tall building. Use whatever frame of reference works best for you. I grew up among tall trees with many branches and levels dug into the trunk. For you, it could be a stone tower, like the one you are imprisoned within. Or think of it like an ocean cavern system with many layers of depths. Or pages of a book…

"In each of them, it takes quite an effort to go the long way, up and down the levels to get to new places. There are shortcuts or thoroughfares. Sometimes the men residing in each level become smart enough to smash through to another. Holes can be ripped in spots, or stairways built. These are often guarded. Many of the thoroughfares between worlds are hard to find and not frequently traveled. Some only appear at particular times.

"Then there are men like you and I.

"I found myself lost from my world. Once I understood these facts, it was easy enough identify the cracks between worlds and slip between them. It would have been nearly impossible to push on if it wasn't for the gift I received. I could not have done it on my own; as I'm sure you know. You were given a similar gift, and a mentor to show you how to use that gift. I suspect they originated from the same power...

While I search to restore myself to the home I once knew, your gift lets you travel the worlds by shear force of will, without ever having to leave your place. Your only limit to your travels is imagination. You are not constrained by the need for food or water or warmth. As long as your physical body is secure, you are free. Count yourself lucky, Hyron.

But here I am, trapped! I'm a prisoner! All I can do is wander and look. I can't touch anything...

"No! You can see, and learn, Aros answered. Even greater, you can speak. Here you are, following me, mining me for information, trying to convince me to find you and rescue you."

I swear, my master told me he knew how to find the wood between the worlds. This is that elevator you described. It can take you to any level of the tower. If you come for me, I will take you to it. I promise you this.

I’ve heard of this place with one entrance and all exits. An elevator to any level. I have heard of many such stories. I have chased down many leads, and here I am, still.

So you won't come for me? Hyron sat back, dejected.

Don't bet on me. I am not a hero or savior like you may think I am. You! You have been given a gift that men would devote their whole lives for. Use it! If you can find the person I am looking for I will repay the debt... but don't stop with me. Look elsewhere. I have met others who know the ways up and down the levels. There are others who travel far from their homes.

Chapter 4

Asteroids in the Korin system generally fell into three locational categories. There was the scattered rocky debris which made up the Belt of Korin, situated between Yomi, the second planet in the system, and Inba Major, the third planet, a gas giant. The asteroids in the belt were numerous and just as rich in precious and common mineral as any other place. But these were spread out and distant from any cluster of humanity. Logistically, the Belt was difficult to mine, as processing stations were only available by long distant transport, and then, only when the rotation of one of the worlds coincided with the asteroid. This is not to say that attempts were not made, whether by souls agreeable to a hermit lifestyle, or to investors attempting to slowly move prospective ore into a better location over time.

The second two locations were in Lagrange points, pockets of intersecting gravitational influence created by the gas giant and its distant star. These pockets, preceding and following Inba major, over a vast span of time, had picked up loose or wandering bodies of mass. The asteroid clusters found here were a much more practical location to prospect. Inba Minor, the second largest moon of the gas giant, was a water world. The rocky-cored satellite harbored it's own complex flora and fauna, prior to human discovery. Its ecosystem was kept warm by its host, rather than by the dim light emanating from the distant center of the system.

Charlie Four had chosen a large asteroid in the L5 point. It was the sparsest populated cluster of asteroid miners within the Inba mini-system. The rock he called home was nearly circular, but for two large portions, which appeared to have been lopped off like an orange sliced at with a katana. A main tunnel had been drilled to the center of the metallic rock by a previous attempt to mine the body by some