Barnacle Passage: Argosy Realm, #1

By Al Onia

Abandoned by their jumpspace transport crew, reluctant spy Carver Denz and a diverse passenger group must improvise to survive and navigate their way back to civilization. Threatening their plans? Mistrust, hallucination, murder and the universe's dual reality.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Al Onia
• Release date: Feb 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393591597

Al Onia

Al Onia lives on Vancouver Island with his wife Sandra. Take Your Best Shot is his ninth published novel. Read more at: ajonia.com

Book preview

Chapter 1

Carver Denz took in the panorama from Argosy Station's upper node. Outside the jumbled protective shell, a catalogue of ships twinkled in worker-illuminated reveals. This external view bettered all the other drinking oases within Argosy but the clientele, décor and conversations were no better or worse than the lowest pisshole. Carver'd seen a few pissholes in his expedition to the frontier. He was a prospector, or wore the mantle of one to suit. Rare in a profession which beggared most, he'd been successful. Dumb bloody luck had complicated his real mission to the Schoenfeld Eddy and environs beyond.

He spied single passenger prospecting gnats like his own Eagle, larger multi-passenger spacers of every configuration imaginable, inter-system drones and at the edge of his vision, a half-dozen jumpships. Huge, elongated freighters, their jumpdrives occupied as much space as cargo destined for Bohr Confluence and other inner system centers. Commerce flourished under the prospect of war. Argosy hummed with energy inside and out, its importance as a junction between established and frontier societies growing by the month. The increased activity and the threat to the power balance of human settlement on the fringe was Carver's doing. Not by intent but the result of his actions nonetheless. Oddly enough, there were no battle craft of any description, from either side. The calm before the storm? Would his small part deflect the storm?

Speculation wouldn't get him home. He had two ways off the station, alive or dead. Escaping with his fortune, information and life was the challenge. Opposing his flight home were finding suitable barnacle to a jump freighter, surviving the deepsleep routine without losing sanity and human adversaries, some identified, some unknown. He concentrated on the scene beyond the glass.

Every transport home passed through or originated from Argosy. He'd been here two weeks evaluating his passage options, weighing security against expediency. His decision to attempt both had been complicated by the latest message from her. 'Meet me in The Node. Tonight. Z.'. The station odors of a sweaty, tense compliment of rough-hewn men and women permeated everywhere. Carver would be glad to reach Bohr. Home. Comfort. Safety. Love. His mission and unexpected fortune granted them all. Unless he didn't make it home.

He heard soft footsteps approach from behind before she spoke. Carver, I wasn't sure you'd come.

He steeled himself and turned. Zofie embraced him before he could step back. Their former intimacy flamed up, tweaking emotional and physical responses she'd honed in him. She pulled his hand and led him to a table on the outer rim of the lounge's spread. Zofie's slight physique belied her strength. Her stamina had always been greater than his but his were the stronger and more obvious emotions.

You changed your hair, he said. Carver regretted coming. He'd wanted to organize his business on Argosy and be gone. It wasn't going to happen if he got distracted. This is a little awkward. You and Ellick...

Zofie's tongue ran across her upper lip and he lost concentration. Her bangs touched her shoulders in front while the back stopped high on her neck. It gave her the look of a much younger woman, guileless.

I'm letting it grow. She shook her mane. Still getting used to the extra mass. I don't know if it'll grow much while we're in spook-space stasis but it's worth a try. Ellick says long hair is more attractive. She tilted her head and gave her tresses another quick shake. She favored Carver with a demure smile. What do you think? You know the Bohr's moneymen and women. Will they respond to such shallow form? Her delicate fingers immersed in the auburn locks, then pulled the bangs from her upturned nose and freckled cheeks.

He flushed. The allure was strong but he knew the passion behind the cutely-framed face ran hot and cold. I think Ellick might be right for once. Form is all part of the required and expected manipulation. Whether you're using them for social or financial gain. It had worked on him. The hair disguised the overlarge ears but Zofie looked as cute as the first time he'd seen her, short months in the past. It might have been this very spot but too many stresses since then made it hard to recall. Another proof he'd made the right decision to move on from their affair.

She nodded to the vista beyond the glass. I watched you staring outside. Busy days. I've never seen so many ships in my time.

Carver didn't need to look again. He'd logged the activity with a professional eye. Something he'd developed since he'd left Bohr. Argosy gains commerce and importance. I wonder if its rise in influence has come too fast. He glanced at the other customers in the bar. Hushed talk, conspiratorial and romantic, consumed a few patrons. He could guess from respective body language which was which. More obvious were three loud and threatening voices. A sharp, deepthroated command to 'shut the hell up' quieted the argument. He twitched himself under the order. He glanced to see where the voice originated but couldn't pick out the source.

Another voice penetrated above the bar's low hubbub. The talking newshead. Chancellor Mekli calls the latest impasse with Bohr unacceptable.

Mekli's grave face replaced the commentator's. The Confluence dictates the markets and sets our prices while we do all the work. We take all the initiative and bear all the risk. What happens to Schoenfeld Eddy when our resources dry up and Bohr moves on to fresher worlds? We wither and die. All we ask is to be treated fair. His rhetoric wasn't wrong, Carver thought. Frontiers always felt oppressed, not realizing investment and infrastructure weren't free. No side ever is fair if it doesn't have to be, he muttered.

Turning cynic?

He tuned the news voices out and eyed Zofie. You're heading to the Confluence and Ellick's using you as bait. Cynical or practical? What's the plan?

The lure of the motherlode. Schoenfeld Eddy's ripe for the picking for prospectors willing to try. Carver Denz is but one success story. Many more to be written.

Carver gritted his teeth. How many dreamers would perish or discover ruin thanks to him? He really didn't want to know the details or her current lover's scheme; he wanted a delay in getting to why she asked him here. Ellick's going to sell the dream. Are you a full partner?

Always, you know me.

He wasn't certain he did. Zofie was an ex-lover, not an ex-confidant. He won't mind you seeing me? He waved a hand around the bar. No one paid any attention to the pair.

I run my own show, Carver. As far as Ellick's concerned, this is a business meeting.

No need to skirt around the past-lover syndrome? His ego accepted the light blow.

I'm not one for verbal dance until we find a comfortable place. I've too many items to check off before departure.

It wasn't going to be easy for him, he realized. Not enough time had passed since they'd ended whatever they shared. Solace? An encounter which stretched to week then ended as quickly as be it began. Carver was engaged now but Zofie still stirred warmth inside him. He fought down visions of their last lovemaking. How many partners had Zofie entertained in his absence from Argosy Station? Another prospector he knew about who hadn't survived the danger or the solitude. Missing, presumed dead. Not unique in the frontier. Once you went missing, death was most often inevitable. One didn't return from mistakes in judgment, astrogation or equipment failure.

Then there was her latest. How is Ellick? He looked for the telltale form of the small-time hustler and big-time dreamer.

"He's fine, readying the Bonanza for passage." Zofie's expression flickered from the normal coquette to concern.

The act began to falter, Carver realized.

"Pollux departs in three shifts, she said. It's not too late for you and the Eagle to barnacle up."

He shook his head. I'm hoping for a more direct jump.

Zofie caressed his hand. "Pollux is making one sub-light call. It isn't supposed to last more than a few days, a week at the most, then on to Bohr Confluence. If she's there, you'll be holding her in a month, subjective time."

Why are you so interested in my re-uniting with your...replacement?

Your fiancé, you mean. Your secret's out, Carver. That's why you're in such a rush to get to Bohr, isn't it?

Helena's answer had been here when Carver arrived with his fortune. She'd not been pleased when he'd left Bohr in a hurry. He couldn't share the real reason but convinced her the lure of prospecting wouldn't leave his soul until he tried his luck. He'd settle down with her, claiming he'd resist the gambler's urge to try for a second windfall. A lie, he'd never had it in the first place, but it would be easy to keep up the pretense.

I want to see you as happy as I am. Zofie's mask returned. The innocent appeal.

Lines creased around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. He studied the eyes. Zofie didn't look happy. Ellick was a jerk and by all accounts, a poor prospector. Promotion suited him more but Carver thought him too impatient. Perhaps Zofie could keep him in check. Thanks. I'm comfortable with my life, and it isn't the money. I'd be heading home even if I'd found nothing. His mission to Argosy Realm and Schoenfeld Eddy hid behind the miner's disguise. Why leave Argosy? Sell your dreams here, Zofie. The foolish will come. Whether I want to or not, I'll make quite the splash in Bohr. Before Helena and I retire to bucolic obscurity.

Argosy is too...competitive. She kneaded her fingers.

Carver knew what she meant. Or rather who she meant. Gar Kondradt, unofficial boss of Argosy Realm. The power behind too many minor thrones to count. Do you think you'll be out of Kondradt's reach in Bohr?

He's too busy here to spread his influence to Bohr. Ellick's got enough of a lead to charter subscriptions to fund a major operation.

Zofie's passion had transformed to the monetary in a flash, he realized. Options on a claim near the famous Carver Denz lode. He filled in the blank.

"We've enough left to book barnacle now. If we waited longer, we'd never reach Bohr. Never mind the real money."

It became clearer. Zofie wasn't trying to recruit him to join the other barnacles on Pollux for his company or his emotional fulfillment in Bohr, but to lower their passage cost. He clasped her wrist. She returned his grip. The thin joint covered strong muscle and tight sinew.

"Sympat is still my choice, he said. She's newer than Pollux and has a crackerjack crew by all reports. My hard credits left on her drone vanguard two days ago. I'll trust the remaining liquid lode to their holds." A portion of it. He'd spread his risk in secret.

"Your fortune ready and waiting when you arrive. This isn't news, Carver. Everyone within a dozen light years of Argosy and this station knows the growing legend. First-time prospector who hit it bigger than anyone could imagine. Everyone from the lowest rock crawler to Kondradt himself wants to rub against the Denz luck."

Including you? You've rubbed me raw on occasion, Zofie, he chuckled. I've little luck left to pass on.

She didn't laugh. "One more barnacle on the Pollux and Ellick and I will save enough in reduced passage fees to mount his subscription campaign in real style."

Her motive confirmed, Carver thought. This was hard. Zofie's priorities were always thus. Skewed from his and too trusting of others unworthy of her faith. Like Ellick. I'll tell you what, he said. When we've all arrived safe in Bohr, come and see me. I won't invest in your effort but I'll consider a loan to make your presentation.

Her eyes lit up and she looked her young age, unhardened by bad luck and worse choices. You would do that? Just having your name associated with our deal will add credibility.

No. No name. I won't have the suckers, excuse me, 'investors', relying on my say-so. You sell it on merit and charm. And he'd not have to tell Helena why he was bankrolling a former lover.

She grabbed both his hands and squeezed. Deal. You still should passage with us. She ran a finger inside his forearm and he felt her toes brush against his leg.

We should seal the deal. She leaned forward.

A handshake will do. He shifted his leg back. One of us should think of Ellick.

I told you, I run my own show.

"Me too, and I'm running on Sympat."

Zofie's brows tightened. The smile vanished. Some advice from my life in the frontier. Don't risk yourself and your fortune on the same ship, Carver.

Zofie, how are you? A deep but feminine voice saved Carver from further excuses. He recognized the voice as the earlier dispute-diffuser.

A tall, muscular woman, tanned copper from some long exposure to real sunlight, nodded to both of them.

Carver Denz. He stood and extended his hand.

DualE, she answered. My pleasure.

Her grip was firm. Carver sensed she hadn't exploited anything near her the full strength. Everyone seemed in better shape than he. Dooley? First or last name?

"Dual. E. She accented the last syllable. Forces' nickname. Stuck with me after I left service. Used to it. Couldn't take the uniform so I kept the title."

Are you booked yet? asked Zofie. "Carver may join us on Pollux. It'd be cheap for all." Zofie's voice pled with subtlety he almost missed. Was she using her talent on him or DualE?

DualE shrugged. "Thinking the Sympat. Direct jump and newer."

The new arrival spoke the clipped pattern of a naval campaigner. No superfluous words, movements or emotions, Carver concluded.

Pricier, said Zofie in a tone which implied the cost to barnacle Sympat spiraled beyond her range.

Well, worth consideration, said DualE. "I've a shift or two to decide and I have looked at both jumpfreighters in detail. Pollux has lots of room up front. What about you, Denz? Jumping aboard Sympat or is Zofie trying to seduce your way onto Pollux?"

She'd been listening? He returned her frank stare. She wasn't flirting, despite the language. She was...evaluating him? "Call me Carver. Yes, I'm jumping. Sympat's my choice. I thought everyone in half a dozen light years knew my itinerary." He glared at Zofie.

She giggled. DualE isn't everyone. She's a spy. Zofie winked.

The other woman didn't take the bait. Corporate facilitator when I'm heeled. Merc for hire if I'm desperate.

A fixer in good times. That's supposed to be my gig, said Carver. He'd never heard of her. "Either way, I'm glad I'm under your radar." He flexed his throbbing hand.

She laughed and touched his shoulder. I can be gentle, Carver. Most of the time I have to be. Facilitating is about diplomacy not intimidation. She studied her hands as if to picture them holding a weapon. No one's hiring this merc in this region. She tipped her chin up while surveying the lounge and its patrons. One needs to be 'known', in local parlance. She dropped the harsh voice. "Zofie, nice to see you again. I'll let you know if I change my mind. Always a possibility corporate may need my services at Pollux's intermediate stop."

She turned to Carver and brushed his forearm with her fingers. It felt good.

"Again, nice to meet you, Carver. Perhaps we'll sleep together barnacled to the Sympat." She turned and strode away.

You can't help it, can you? Zofie looked amused, not pissed.

I have no idea what you're implying, said Carver. "All I want to do in barnacle is sleep. Alone in my own ship. No room for two in the Eagle, I assure you. If she's a corporate hotshoe, then hers is a one-person needle ship barely big enough for one her size. A rental based on minimal overhead, not luxury." Did she follow him or was Sympat her natural choice?

"You won't change your mind? About Pollux?"

"Unless something goes voidways with Sympat, I doubt it. Sorry, Zofie. My offer stands. We will talk in Bohr, I promise."

She stood and leaned in to peck his cheek. Her hair brushed his forehead and eyelids, bringing back memories of more intimate times. Take care, Carver. My offer to formalize our agreement has a limited time.

Concentrate on your plans with Ellick.

Zofie walked away, passing another all-too-familiar station resident.

JONN TOKAL, ERRAND boy in a man's body, sat without invitation. Carver. He set his bottle on the table. Jonn's immaculate wardrobe couldn't disguise the mass of muscle underneath. The whole effect of trying to be a gentleman was sabotaged by a large head appearing sans neck from the starched white collar. He extended a meaty fist in greeting.

Jonn. Carver massaged his fingers without reciprocating Jonn's awkward gesture. Sorry, hand's sore.

DualE, said Jonn. I saw. There's a 'buster.

High praise or disdain? Carver's admiration and suspicion of the merc notched up a point. The enemy of my enemy could be my friend, he thought. Or another enemy. We just met. I've no opinion. What in the remote reaches of the void can I do for you, Jonn? Are you a pharm merchant today, come to peddle your non-cryo options for jumpspace? Carver hadn't missed the shift of Jonn Tokal's eyes and the hitch in Zofie's stride when the two had passed each other. Tokal wasn't selling, he wanted to buy something.

Pharms? His tone dismissed the idea. Never. Cryo's the sane way to jump. Demons enough in the deep-freeze. He hesitated, as though recalling a personal experience. Jonn focused on Carver. I'm here on unfinished business. An opportunity. Mr. Kondradt wants you to make another prospecting tour. On his credit. Duplicate your success. Jonn swigged his bottle of fortified ale and wiped the inherent goo from his dark lips. Foam and ale snot lingered in the bushy mustache.

You should decant that swill into a glass before you drink it, keeps the mung out of your digestive tract.

My digestive tract likes the mung. I haven't been sick in years. Back to our last aborted conversation, what will it take, Carver?

More than you or Kondradt can offer. Besides, there's little left out there to find. I got lucky once. I don't fancy I can repeat my fluke. I already gave your boss a decent return shipping it from the Eddy to here. Tell him to enjoy it and move on. Exploit the next batch of immigrants. He thought about Ellick's scheme. Ellick wasn't the most original con man he'd ever met, Kondradt could be thinking along similar lines.

There's more than one way to make a fortune prospecting, Carver. You happened upon the rarest one, finding a lode.

Yeah, I know, the guys who make the real money are the ones selling the equipment to the saps.

Jonn drained his bottle and signaled the servbot for another. True, selling scoutships and hardware is one way but selling dreams, there's the best way. The most lucrative. He ran a wet finger around the glass's rim. "A second tour for you doesn't have to be about repeating your success. It's about speculation you can repeat. It's also about bringing more direct investment to the Realm, weaning us from the Confluence's money teat."

Jonn Tokal might be a messenger for Kondradt but he was no fool in his own right, Carver realized. He couldn't have memorized all of this from the master's lips.

Let Kondradt exploit my name to amplify the dream? Sorry, Jonn, I've already heard that scheme once today.

Ellick? Jonn laughed. Let him try. Kondradt offers this proposal. The errand thug leaned forward and lowered his voice. Join with us and there will be no risk in shipping your lode to Bohr. Keep it here, we'll control supply while demand forces the price up. A patient man will be rewarded with top dollar, not wholesale bulk discount. Come in with us, Carver, Kondradt's offering a full partnership.

Carver had neither the energy nor the will to be subtle. Funny, I don't recall encountering any other Kondradt partners in my time out here. I can't imagine I'm the first, what happened to my predecessors?

There's more at stake than anomalies like you. You show up in Bohr as you plan and market reaction is only one volatile. There's be an influx we can't control. Tokal's gazed blurred. He wasn't looking at Carver any more. Too many wildcards, those scrambling to survive in the Eddy will respond.

War waged by a bunch of boozed-out rockhounds? You and your friends wouldn't last a week. Carver doubted his words, he didn't like Tokal and took small pleasure in opposing his every word.

It'd take more than a week; let's say years for the Confluence Navy to scour every asteroid in the Eddy. While the ones they don't find lie in ambush. Tokal grinned at him but there was no mirth in the expression.

Kondradt has a lot of faith in my value, Jonn. I wish I could help but I have a date in the Confluence. Someone prettier than you or Gar Kondradt.

Tokal's smile disappeared in a wink. "We'll crush you like that friend of Zofie's crushed your hand. If you're not with us, you are against us. That's what happens to Kondradt's partners when they don't cooperate. You've five shifts until Sympat jumps. Jonn Tokal grabbed the bottle from the servbot and moved quickly to his feet. Don't barnacle on her." He moved away with the last word.

Zofie's warning and now Tokal. Carver didn't doubt the threat. He couldn't match it so he would have to avoid it. Somehow. The stakes were too great to be sidetracked in the Realm.

He returned his attention to the outside view. Pollux was too far away for an easy appraisal. He adjusted the viewing glass to a magnified image. There it lay. Two kilometers long and hundred meters in diameter, it looked like a floating sewer pipe. From what he'd heard, the description fit the inside of the hulking old jumpfreighter well. At her blunt nose, he discerned one barnacle already clamped on. Zofie and Ellick's Bonanza hadn't locked on yet. The first barnacle was a unique bell shape but unknown to him. Pollux wouldn't jump for a few days; this one was saving moorage fees at the expense of hunkering down before cryo took the inhabitants through jump.

Barnacle passage. Small ships incapable of making their own hyperspace leap attached to the ones which could. Opposite Pollux the sleek, shiny profile of Sympat contrasted with Pollux's pock-marked, dull grey surface. A good place to hide, Carver thought.

Chapter 2

Six hours later, Carver docked a skeeter-ferry next to Sympat's forward airlock. The hull's shine visible from the station lost its uniformity close up. It was discolored and corroded in many places. The ship's armaments were more obvious. Too small to take the offensive, but enough to fend off all but the most determined attack.

He cycled inside and unsealed his visor to ship atmosphere. The freighter smelled sickly sweet. The space suit's protection and lack of gravity aboard spurred him to keep the helmet in place. He didn't want to crash skull-first into any one of the multitude of obstacles protruding from the hull, decks and bulkheads.

"Welcome aboard Sympat. Follow the blue stripe to cargo decks, red to bridge, yellow to purser." The mechanical voice repeated instructions as Carver selected his path.

Sympat, like all jumpfreighters, spaced with minimal crew. Once outside the twenty-thousand-kilometer limit from Argosy Station, jump sequence initiated and the computers took over until transit down from hyper-space. Upon return to three-dimensional Euclidean Space, the crew were awakened from cryogenic sleep to prepare