Chapter 3

  At some point, Dad handed me a duffel bag full of my old clothes, and I had the interesting and exciting task of not only looking for the ones that had a real chance of fitting but also getting into them while the rover was in constant motion. Wing was putting the machine through its paces in a way that made my inner mechanic wince.

  Unfortunately, on the clothing front, I was taller and wider now, making the work pants a little too short and the shirts a little too tight, but my old steel toed boots still seemed to fit just fine. I’d seen models on the net pull off the faux rustic look, but I didn’t think I was at their level.

  I sighed when we blew past the last of the roads that would take us to the city. Some part of me wanted to see if the city looked the same as it had when I was a kid. That trip had been a formative experience for me back then, and all the crazy sights and sounds had taken on a mythical significance over time. However, we didn’t go anywhere near the city. Instead, Wing took us on a back trail over rough country that eventually met up with a wider road, one of the well maintained ones meant for big cargo haulers. Then we headed east until the road terminated at a military checkpoint, pretty much a row of retractable bollards stretched across a man-made cut in the side of a cliff face.

  Once we came to a stop, two armed CRF in combat getups came out of a doorway nearby. They were kitted for serious fighting, apparently, with gray helmets and full face shields, armor plate carriers, and loaded bandoliers under dark leather storm coats that came down to their knees. The sign above their post read: Jump Processing.

  The smaller of the two soldiers with stripes on their shoulders gestured to us. “Come on out, and let’s see some I.D.,” a female voice squawked from her helmet’s loudspeaker.

  Wing, White, and Dad all had some form of identification, but I seemed to have left mine in my other pants.

  The larger of the two CRF, the one with a bulky radio set, big whip antenna wobbling over his head, took everyone’s I.D. and scanned them over a data plate attached to his hip, while I got the third degree from the talkative one.

  “You’re supposed to have clearance to get into the jump station, sir, and attempting to enter without is a violation of protocol. I need your name, your CA-ID number if you have one, and an address.”

  White saved me with questions of his own. “Is the jump point closed, Captain? Things seem quiet around here.” he observed.

  “Only to non-essential traffic. sir. Our orders are to detain and report today,” she replied.

  “An order for something like that must have come from the very top.” Mr. White probed.

  “Maybe, sir,” the captain said noncommittally. “In my experience it’s always the precursor to shutting down the jump altogether, but approval for that kind of thing takes longer unless it’s a real emergency. Central gets a little touchy when it comes to shutting down interstellar travel.”

  I suddenly felt both very important and very, very small. Had Marshal shut down the entire planet just for me?

  It felt silly thinking about it like that. No way was I worth cutting Proxis off from the rest of the colonies, even just for a day. Absurd.

  “Well, I could certainly pull rank and call myself essential, but that would be stretching the truth,” White said. “I have more respect for your position than that, Captain. I have nowhere to be officially. However, my young friend here is on his way somewhere and must get through on official Colonial Authority business.”

  The Captain’s helmet tilted as she scanned me up and down. I could practically see the doubt under that visor. “Probably should have brought his ID then,” she said coolly before looking back at White and reiterating. “I saw your rank, and that opens some doors, but the jump’s only open for cargo, sir.”

  Dad and White both turned to me, expectant looks on their faces.

  But I, the social genius that I was, stood there, confused for several long heartbeats before I finally realized what I was supposed to do.

  Oh, right. Of course my status would be a big deal here at the jump point. I was a Non-Combat Class. A Non-Combat Class with Spatial Storage.

  Human civilization was split between lots and lots of systems chosen a long time ago during Exodus II for their hospitable temperatures and stable host stars. However, they were all light years apart. Even if someone could travel at the speed of light, an impossibility as far as physics was concerned, it would still take decades to get from one outpost of humanity to another. Exotics got around that little problem by cheating. We could travel the multiverse, pop out of our universe at one point and pop back in at another. Useful. However, having Spatial Storage made it infinitely more so. Guys like me could take huge loads of material from one planet to another without all those pesky concerns about mass and energy.

  So, as a demonstration of my awesome storage powers, I raised my hand and made one of my Ralqir coins flash into existence between my fingers.

  The Captain’s helmet looked as impressed as it was physically possible for it to be. Her tone relaxed appreciably, though, able to accept that we were all supposed to be here, and no one wanted to go through that wasn’t allowed.

  “Alright. Sorry I held you up, sir,” the Captain said. “Let me make a mark here that you’re going through on CA business using Mr. White’s authority. Name?”

  “Ryan Kotes.”

  She typed my name into her plate. “Cargo?”

  “Uh. Collectibles. Currency. Raw materials.”

  “Biological materials? Hazardous substances?” She asked.

  Did a bunch of alien plant matter and a scourge infested tutorial A.I. count? It probably did. I elected to not mention those, however. I was already wanted. No need to make it worse.

  “And are you willing to transport data to your destination today?”

  I blinked. “Data- uh. What? Sure. I guess.”

  More typing on the Captain’s data pad, then she ducked into the low doorway that led further into the rockface. When she came out again she was awkwardly lugging what looked like a smooth, metallic canister with a handle built onto one of the ends. She brought it over to me, her rifle slung on her back now, the container hoisted ponderously in two hands. When I took it, the weight was certainly considerable but not so much that I couldn’t maybe throw it into the back of the rover. Curious, I held it up to my ear and shook it slightly, feeling the weight shift almost as if there was a fluid sloshing around inside.

  Interesting.

  I gave it another shake, but Wing’s hand was suddenly there on my wrist. The woman was strong. I could practically feel the bones grinding together under my skin. She leaned in and shook her head reproachfully. Dad and White were similarly both stuck somewhere between reaching out to stop me or reeling away in horror.

  I shook my head, about to ask what their problem was. Then I almost dropped my precious cargo when I realized what I held.

  This is liquid phase medium… Oh, Constance.

  Every micro droplet in the canister I was holding contained somewhere just under an exabyte of data, and each cost more to manufacture than what most people in the Outers made in a year.

  I was not nearly responsible enough to be trusted with this. No way. I’d already volunteered to take it, though, so before I could actually drop the thing and put myself in debt for the approximate value of Proxis’ GDP, I made it disappear into my storage dimension. Nice and safe.

  Everyone in the know relaxed visibly.

  “Thanks,” I said, swallowing the nervous lump in my throat. I knew it was perfectly safe in my pocket dimension, but just having it in there made me sweat.

  “Thank you for keeping humanity connected, Chosen,” the captain replied flatly, as if she’d said the line a thousand times. “You can go on through now. Your friends will have to wait here, though.”

  White pulled me aside and pressed a stack of bulky coins into my palm like the one he’d given me the day I’d come back. Challenge coins.

  “Survive this,” White needlessly advised me. Who needed to be told that? I just spent six months just trying to survive. I knew a little something about self preservation. “Survive it, but also make use of the opportunity you are being given. This is an academy for Family Legacies. It produces nothing but elite Chosen. Don’t underestimate them. Making enemies will be inevitable, so make sure you make equally powerful allies.”

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  I swallowed uncomfortably again. What was I getting myself into? I didn’t even know how my new class worked yet. Dad shuffled over to me next.

  “Ryan, I- I wish we had more time,” Dad said brittly. He looked like he was in pain, the words just on the tip of his tongue but unable to come out. I had things to say too. Things had happened on Ralqir, things I was still coming to grips with. Then there was Vince, the others that had died on the night I was integrated into the System… Mom.

  I wanted to say so much. I didn’t though. I froze, the words withering and dying inside of me before I could bring them to bear. Maybe I inherited my emotional intelligence from my father.

  If Mom could see us, she wouldn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “I’ll be here when you get back,” Dad finally said, reaching out to shake my hand, but I wrapped him up in a crushing hug instead, our first since I’d gotten my shiny new prosthetic. I could hug properly now.

  The little ball of lead that had been rolling around in my stomach got a little heavier.

  Constance, I was so sick of losing people.

  “Please come back,” Dad murmured in my ear before adding: “But if you don’t, I’ll understand.”

  I broke away, shock momentarily scattering all my other thoughts. It took a moment to interpret Dad’s words.

  He’s telling me I don’t have to go to White’s school. I can slip into the multiverse and never come back. He’s saying I can run, and he’ll understand.

  I didn’t run from things anymore, though. Not when I could help it. I’d need to pass White’s gauntlet and figure out a way to live free, but I wasn’t running.

  “I’ll be back,” I replied, almost believing it myself. “‘Long as you’ll have me, I’ll be back.”

  —--------------------------

  I passed into a cavernous dome type building with massive steel rafters and a giant crane that ran on a railing system along the ceiling. The whole thing could have swallowed a city block or maybe been a professional sports stadium on Old Earth, big enough to fit a whole town inside. Except this one was full of… stuff. Rows and rows of sealed crates, shelves, and pallets of plastic wrapped goods went on seemingly forever to either side of me, interrupted by traffic lanes with lots of tire marks and stains. I might have gotten lost but for the yellow painted lines helpfully labeled ‘Jump Load/Unload.’ As with any sufficiently civilized public facility, there were signs everywhere, but this was the only one that contained the word Jump.

  The signs took me on a winding route, through a couple checkpoints, but no one was interested in me since I was outgoing instead of incoming. Apparently, the bored looking customs officers were only there to receive cargo and label it appropriately, not deal with rookie Exotics looking to make their first jumps.

  After the third checkpoint, my route turned into a sort of cautionary bundle of diagonal lines around a solid looking platform with clearly delineated squares where cargo was set in neat rows. In the middle of the platform, however, the space was dominated by a hulking battle tank, its engine growling deeper than some dragons I’d met. The tank was one of the wheeled models, its eight bulbous tires sagging under the immense weight of its thick armored plating, while the two hover platforms that I could see at the front of the vehicle lay dormant. Twin cannons protruded from its turret along with the head of the tank’s commander. He was speaking with two techs that were scurrying around the wheels and doing an inspection on what looked like the shocks.

  The commander noticed me first. “Point’s closed to foot traffic until further notice.” he announced in a booming voice.

  I nodded, trying desperately to look the man in the face instead of letting my eyes wander to the death machine he was sitting in.

  “Uh. Yeah. I figured that, but I’m- uh… a Non Combat Class.”

  The tanker’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh. Alright then. Got cargo? Good. Hand my guys your papers, and we’ll be on our way. Are we ready yet?” he asked his techs, who both gave him a thumbs up.

  Two figures approached from the shadows behind the tank, a pair of women in black, form fitting armor made of some kind of composite material. On their backs they wore oversized packs with lots of pockets and odd tools strapped to their frames. Aside from the uniform, though, they were nothing alike. The short one, a shocky freckled woman with red hair was the first to speak.

  “You Kotes?” she asked in a lilting accent. Her partner, a taller, lankier brunette with caramel skin and lots of piercings above and below her eyes looked me up and down appraisingly.

  “Uh. Yeah. I’m Kotes,” I replied, unsure of how to proceed.

  The redhead looked back at her companion, and the two exchanged a look that might have been interpreted as disappointed. “Mr. White hired us to take you where you’re going. No offence but you smell new. You at least know what we are?” she asked.

  I snapped my fingers, coming up with the answer before I got to the count of two. “Uh- Pathfinders right? Explorers. You find the routes through the multiverse.”

  She pointed finger guns at my gut. “Got it in one, though I’d say we optimize travel through the multiverse as our main job, quickest ways from here to there, get me? Stick with us, and we’ll go six hundred lightyears in a few hours today.”

  An alarm klaxon sounded overhead, a buzzing horn that could probably be heard all over the dome. Spinning orange caution lights activated at the edges of the platform and corresponding ones sprang to life way above on the ceiling.

  “That’s us then. On we go.” Belle took a firm hold of my arm and pulled me over the yellow lines. Hydraulics hissed as a set of rails rose into place along the perimeter of the platform, hemming us all in. Then we started to descend. I wasn’t ready for it, and I stumbled slightly before catching myself on the railing.

  The platform slowly sank into the floor at a slight angle.

  “So, I’m guessing the warehouse isn’t the jump point then?” I asked once I’d regained my balance.

  “Nah. It’s down. We’re on the edge of a crater. The point itself is in the middle… Well, actually slightly below. It’s a weird one, but I’ve seen weirder. What about you Gizelle?”

  Gizelle, the taller Exotic, nodded, the dangly bits of her piercings making delicate tinkling sounds with the motion of her head. “Went through one that was underwater once. Awful run, that one.” she stated in a richly accented alto.

  “I’m Belle, by the way,” the red-headed Pathfinder told me, sticking out a hand for me to shake.

  “Belle and Gizelle,” I repeated.

  “See you’ve not been neglecting your Mind score,” Belle jabbed.

  The platform descended slowly, down from the underside of the dome and into the wind once more, though its ferocity was somewhat muted. We were, indeed, on the side of a crater, a rather large crater, its rocky walls rising up on every side as our lift rolled its way down big steel supports using toothed wheels that fit in corresponding grooves on the beams. The wind was almost mild here thanks to how low and out of the main flow we were, and Dad’s jacket felt downright warm on my torso, finally able to store some heat without the wind stealing it away instantly.

  “So, here’s the deal,” Belle said. “We’re under contract to get you where you need to go. That doesn’t mean the trip is safe or that we’ll be doing all the work. Not going to be carrying you on our backs the whole trip, get me?”

  I just nodded.

  Belle continued. “The both of us have a particular set of Skills and Abilities that makes us suited for this kind of thing. Watch us and follow our lead wherever we go.” She opened up a compartment on what I took for a plate of armor on her wrist, and a hologram flickered to life a couple inches above. Light beamed up into the Patherfinder’s face and resolved into a three-dimensional projection of something, but it was gone before I could really interpret it.

  “Looks like our route has us doing a few jumps. Not a whole lot of walking in between, but what walking we will be doing is fairly safe. First jump is going to be dirty, though. You know about scourge right?” Belle asked with the final words tugging the corners of her mouth into a frown.

  Oh, boy, did I. I didn’t volunteer that story though. I just nodded.

  Belle sighed with relief. ”Oh, good. Didn’t want to have the talk with another newbie.”

  I pointed to the military folks and their death machine. “That why we have the tank?”

  Belle nodded. “One of the reasons. It’s in everyone’s best interest to keep a jump from turning into a full blown rift. Don’t worry, though. We’ve been through this one recently, and there’s not much going on.”

  Our lift continued down to the bottom of the crater and beyond, into a bore hole with smoothly carved sides. Work lights glowed near the roof, keeping us from being plunged into total darkness.

  Belle briefed me further. “If you see a scourge-touched, let us handle it. Don’t try to handle it yourself. If you get attacked by vanilla wildlife, let us handle it. If you see something you don’t understand, let us handle it.”

  “I’m detecting a subtle theme here” I said.

  Belle slapped me on the shoulder hard, though Dad’s jacket kept it from being painful. “There’s that mind score working for you again. Just don’t leech our experience or do anything stupid, and we’ll get along.”

  The lift came to a stop in a cavern, paved and painted with cautionary yellow concentric circles around a singular spot, but there was nothing there. The tank crew, however, took the empty air seriously. The turret’s two barrels lowered until they were locked in on said empty air, the buzz of the capacitors on the acceleration rings ramping up to ear splitting levels of white noise.

  My Pathfinders gave the tankers a incongruously casual wave then stepped forward, crossing the outer circle. I followed.

  As we crossed the first line, I got this feeling, a strange feeling. That feeling you got when you were at the top of a hill and about to go careening down, like your heart was lighter than it should have been. The weightless time before you started to fall. It was all of those things, and they got worse as we passed each concentric circle.

  Belle looked back to me, having to crane her neck slightly to look up into my face now that we were close. “Every jump is a little different. You have to be in a particular frame of mind to fit through. It’s not exact, but we have methods to get new folks in and out.” Again, she whipped out her wrist hologram and used her fingers to navigate through a few menus.

  “Try this,” she said after finding what she was looking for. Then she took my hand and lead me over to the exact center of the innermost circle. The feeling of weightlessness became so intense, I thought I might vomit.

  “Alright, put your hand up to the-

  *FWOOM*

  The world dropped away.

  My nose and mouth flooded with something tasteless, odorless. Frost prickled at the hair on my face and arms. My eyes were open, but something was in them, sharp and invasive. I wanted to cry out in surprise, maybe take a breath and scream, but I couldn’t. It was like something had seized my throat.

  Darkness. Pressure. Crushing. Ice in my belly. In my brain.

  My eyes were open but I couldn’t see. There was nothing there. All was nothing.

  *FWOOM*

  Then, there was fire… white, hot. So damned bright.

  Then I was face down on a scorched bed of grass.

  Hey. Thanks for giving In my Defense a chance. New chapters will be posted Tuesdays and Thursdays, eventually ramping up depending on the amount of interest we can generate here.

  As of right now, Patreon is about 30k words ahead of Royal Road. Additionally, patrons have the dubious honor of access to my audio tracks where I do silly voices and pretend to know what I’m doing.