Bendspace: Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Remmington, Ingrid.

            She was sixteen now. That’s what they told her to say. Sixteen or back to the dank, cold prison she loathed, and didn’t deserve to be in. It didn’t really matter that she was actually, truly fifteen. For the world she must be sixteen, or the world would have no mercy. She was drafted. It was her single chance to escape from her life, to have a fresh start with a group of people who would rely on her only for her skills as a fighter.  She was being drafted into the PA Marines, and she had no idea if she’d ever return to New Mars. Ingrid Remmington hefted her duffle bag onto her shoulder and bravely walked towards the ship where she was to register, and take a place in her new world.

            “Remmington, Ingrid.” The woman looked up from her name taking, to raise an eyebrow at Ingrid. Self consciously, Ingrid tried to shrug her cap lower on her head, but it didn’t help. Her hair was so red it glowed in the bright desert sunlight in the places that it stuck out from the cap. She’d tried to dye it any color other than this, tried to make her head less of a visible and recognizable target, but it was like her orange hair repelled dye of all kinds. As a result, she’d simply chopped it all off, leaving her with a messy pixie, or a head on fire. She bit her lip.

            “Yeah, that’s me.”

            “Little short for the marines, aren’t you?”

            Little thick for an officer, aren’t you? Ingrid wanted to reply. Instead she nodded. “Yes, I am.” The woman officer waved Ingrid on her way, shooing her into the throng of young conscripts mingling around the shuttle transports. Ingrid stared at the sleek transports. Not her side of town, she’d never seen anything quite like them. They were smooth and oblong, with rotating blades above and beneath them, so that they would be able to escape the thick, hot atmosphere of the desert planet. The conscripts would be assigned to various military ships and crews once they had reached the larger stations outside the atmosphere’s reach. Ingrid gazed up at the blinding sky for a moment before looking away. Everything on New Mars was blinding- the sky, the sun, the sand, the white of the bleached buildings. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the light.

            The conscripts were loaded into shuttles by last name. Ingrid waited impatiently for her name to be called. R. A long, long way from the beginning. Her hands traced nervously at the scars on her wrists and arms, but a confidant smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. Perhaps this was why she was less frightened than most of the other pale schoolboys around her. She had never been in battle, she’d admit to that. However, Ingrid Remmington was no stranger to the art of combat. Nor was she any stranger to the horrors of battle.

            “R, S, and T will now board shuttle twelve.” A tinny voice rang over the loudspeaker. Ingrid walked to shuttle twelve, hefting her bag again on her shoulder. And so. She thought. It begins. She boarded the sleek craft, which was cool and air conditioned on the inside, although in a state of disrepair that might be expected of a craft who’s purpose was, usually, to carry soldiers to their deaths. Ingrid knew the statistics. Most conscripts didn’t survive their first year. Not even their first month, in fact. It was a long running joke on the New Mars taverns. She closed her eyes, remembering a conversation over a tall drink that she’d shared with an equally ratty mate. 

            “PA’s fa’orite strat’o’gee…. weeeell I a’thinkin we all knows that bit’o’work.”

            “But I don’t understand…. What is it?”

            “Eh? Them PA folks....” He chortled, showing his teeth.  “They jusn’ keep flingin’ conscripts at it ‘untl it drowns isself in blood.”

            Ingrid swallowed, shaking off the memory. It didn’t matter now. Besides, she was absolutely determined that she would not die. She refused to die. She would do whatever it took so that she could stay alive and keep fighting. Whatever it might take so that she could eventually return home to her family. Well, not her family… but those who depended on her. She had to return to them because they needed her, and she refused to let them down.

            She relaxed in the leather seat and took a deep, calming breath, as the engines under her shuttered to life, and the ship began to rise. She stared out the pressurized window, awed at the beauty outside as they rose into the air and the dusty capitol city fell away. In all directions away from the city spread a vast, shining desert of dunes and rocky crags. A single river ran, in one end of the city and out the other, flowing away as a single strip of color in the blinding whites and browns of the planet’s natural soil. The shuttle rose higher and higher into the sky and Ingrid watched breathlessly as it blasted an exit through the atmosphere of her planet. She stared down in wonder at the red ball below her. She could actually see the curve of the planet; actually see the wispy clouds that brought rare rain to the surface. Then she turned to look at the sky. The stars were huge and bright, and extended forever. She stared in undisguised amazement at the large formations of color and light.

            “See something you like?” Ingrid turned at the voice of a man standing in the back of the shuttle. He was tall, in his mid-thirties, and powerfully built. His eyes had the gaunt look of a soldier, but his mouth the cocky confidence of a man half his age. His face and arms were scarred. He had a large gun slung across his back, and winked at Ingrid. “Anything out there that’s new to you?” His eyes were a cool blue, and seemed to x-ray Ingrid in a glance. She brushed the red points of her hair out of her eyes and spoke coolly, loth to betray her limited knowledge of the universe.

            “I like it all…very much.”

            “Never been up here before?”

            Ingrid wanted to protest, but the man was telling the truth. She’d never been up here before. She’d spent years pretending that she was, but had never been able to tear herself away from the people she loved and protected in the back streets of the city.

            “I’ve been, uh, I’ve been up here before.”

            “Liar. Conscript and a liar.”

            “I’m not a liar- well, okay, maybe I’m lying a little.”

            “Knew it.”

            She rolled her eyes. It didn’t matter to her that she’d lost the argument, but the cocky smile was annoying. She extended her hand.

            “I’m Ingrid Remmington.”

            He grunted, regarding it for a moment before reaching out to shake it. As he moved Ingrid’s eyes landed on the long, scarred and savage looking knife at his belt. She shook the hand.

            “Gherkin. I go by Rookie.”

            Ingrid laughed.  “Rookie? That’s awe inspiring.”

            “It’s ironic.” He said, and then frowned. “I hate irony.”

            Ingrid let her eyes wander the room, and take in the sight of the other nervous and soon-to-be-dead conscripts. She had no desire to be shipped off to their boot camp, spending time learning how to die in the best manner possible. She didn’t want to run into battle, underequipped and blasting wildly, to defeat the monsters in battle. She’d only heard bar stories of the Microid race, but they were enough to make her knees weak, in her own mind and behind the guise of strength that she needed to maintain for the sake of staying alive.

            “Not looking forwards to death?” Rookie said, callused.

            “Not particularly.” She rolled her eyes. “To hell with glorious death in battle.”

            He cracked a grin. “My thoughts exactly.” He offered a drink from a suspicious looking and strong smelling flask. Ingrid raised an eyebrow.

            “Really now? Pleasure drinks on a PA shuttle?”

            “You should meet the Terns brothers.” Ingrid looked confused.

            “The who?”

            “Oh, the Terns brothers. They live and work on my ship.”

            Ingrid was impressed. “You have a ship? So what are you...loyal soldier to the PA captain? Space pirate?”

            Rookie grunted. “As much as I’d rather be a space pirate, no. I’m climbing my slow way through the ranks of the marines.”

            “So, what’s it called?”

            “I’m not sure, honestly. Some of us were all for christening her the SS Peacock, but I’m fairly sure the ‘Last Shadow’ won out in the paperwork.”

            Ingrid grinned, relaxing in conversation with the friendly man. She barely noticed the clunk and screech as the ship docked in the hanger of the massive space station. It was the tinny voice on the loudspeaker that revealed the honest fright in her eyes as she gathered her duffle bag together and marched bravely to the doors that lead to our future. She forgot to say goodbye to Rookie Gherkin.

            The station was made of cold steel. Everything that Ingrid gazed on seemed to be polished like a soldier’s shoes, and everywhere busy men and women in olive green were rushing about. They all seemed to be older. Older than conscripts. Older and wiser and still alive.  She really was frightened, her hands cool and sweaty. The conscripts were lead into a massive steel chamber somewhere below the bridge, where an officer could address them from the catwalk above.

            “You will be assigned to your various troops and commands before you are asked to proceed to your new departure ship.” R was so far down the list. Ingrid sighed impatiently, worried and yet, not wanting to know the planet she’d be assigned to for training. She ignored the flutters in her stomach, a mix of malnourishment and nerves. She was in the marines now, plenty of food, she could easily control the former…there was honestly nothing she could do about the gnawing fears in the pit of her stomach though. If she was lucky, and she probably wouldn’t be, luck wasn’t exactly her thing, then she would be able to join a sane regiment and live through the next year.

            As Ingrid glanced around, she noticed Rookie Gherkin walking up behind the woman announcer with the tinny voice. They talked a bit, and his eyes scanned the crowd below. It took him moments to settle on Ingrid, her bright, flaming hair a beacon in the blur of browns, blondes and auburns. The woman cleared her throat and spoke into the loudspeaker.

            “Will a Miss Ingrid Remmington please join the crew of the ship SS Shadow.”

            Ingrid was floored. She stood, blinking, her bag slipping down her shoulder. She was to…. what? She was to join the crew of Rookie’s ship? Didn’t he say it was called the Last Shadow? What on earth did he need a conscript for? A single conscript too, not a crew. And that he held enough sway with the tinny woman to give her pause and to direct changes to her grouping… what had happened? Ingrid hefted her bag and started to sidle sideways through the crowd, looking for an exit and a way up to the bridge, where she could join the shadow’s crew. Holy hell, a real warship. Maybe her luck had changed! She slowly climbed the steps as the tinny woman resumed her reading of the conscript list, and she joined Rookie on the bridge.

            “What’s going on? Why did you call me up?”

            He stared at her for a long minute. “Need new crew member, you seemed interesting. I hate wading though a crowd of conscripts to try to find one, and there are hundreds down there. We talked, it’ll work. Welcome to my crew.”

            Ingrid grinned. Her luck had changed, it must’ve. The chances of her living out the year had just jumped way, way up.

            “You’ll have to be trained, of course. Don’t want you dead right off the bat. If you don’t do well in the training, I’ll kick your ass right back to boot camp, don’t forget that. But for now, we’ll see what you can do. You’ll be reporting to the Shadow at fourteen hundred hours, got that?”

            Ingrid nodded quickly, keeping her back as straight as she could, not wanting to disappoint him in any way. She’d make her mark on this crew, and she’d prove that she was worth keeping around. Hefting her duffle bag onto her back, she started walking for the exit to the hanger bay. There wasn’t much for her to do in the next hour, just eat and explore the station a little. She didn’t want to get herself in trouble right away, if at all.

            Ingrid curiously walked down the hallway, stepping to the side to avoid busy PA officers moving around. She peeked around a corner, looking for somewhere she could stay and wait, maybe learn a little about what was going on in the world. Ingrid paused and corrected herself. Worlds. In the worlds. In the galaxy. In the next galaxy. I’m not on New Mars now. There’s an entire universe of things I don’t know.

            Stepping around a corner, Ingrid spotted a window that was pushed out from the hallway, with a bench inside, a good place to stop and rest for a bit before reporting to her ship. As she stepped into the alcove, the lights seemed to dim in the brilliance of the reflection off the planet. One, tiny planet in the infinite world. She pressed her hand to the glass and stared at the golden surface, cloudless as usual. She could see the ribbon-like great river with its strips of green on each side. It was amazing. 

            “Well don’t you have the wide-eyed look of a conscript.” Ingrid turned. A man was standing behind her, maybe two or three years older. He was very handsome, but had a cold look in his eyes. Despondent. It reminded Ingrid of Rookie, the commander she’d impressed…the look of someone who cares very little for the death of others, even others who are under their command. He didn’t look like a conscript, but he didn’t seem to have a rank either. In fact, covered in gadgets and tech implants as he was, it was hard to tell if he was a soldier at all, or just an engineer. His eyes had the hard look of a fighter, and he had a few nicks and scars, but his hands seemed quick and agile, not lumbering.

            “I am a conscript…” Ingrid said, slowly. She immediately felt both a respect and a distrust of the man.

            “Right, you’re that red-headed stepchild conscript Gherkin called from the drafting chamber.” The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile, and Ingrid didn’t like the smile.

            “I’m not a step child….”

            “It’s an old expression from Earth, before it collapsed. It was meant to be that red haired children didn’t have souls. A red-headed step child might kill its parents.”

            Ingrid looked taken aback. “I won’t be killing my parents, I assure you.”

            “It was a joke, Red.” He walked closer, lazily, and turned his attention to the reflection of the planet out the window. “A joke. A redheaded step child bites the hand that feeds it.” He turned and looked back at her. “Do you?”

            Ingrid was getting annoyed. This man was in her personal space, and insulting her, implying things about her attitude when he knew nothing about HER.

            “Do I what?” She snapped.

            “Bit the hand that feeds you.”

            “No, I don’t. And really that’s none of your concern.” She started to leave and he aggressively caught her arm. Ingrid flinched at his touch, her heart beating faster and her breath catching slightly, without making a sound.

            “You’ll find it is my business. Rookie’s my commander, and you and I’ll be on the same ship. The name’s Marko.” Ingrid jerked her arm away, and hauled her duffel over her shoulder again. Her eyes flashed angrily at his cool demeanor.

            “You’d better just stay out of my way then, Marko.” She shouldered roughly past him and marched down the hallway, angry, refusing to look back. She could hear his laugh echoing in the hallway. Nice job, Remmington. Way to go, making enemies of the people on your ship. This isn’t going to turn out well, I just know it. Ingrid sighed and relaxed to a walk, figuring she might as well turn into the ship’s port early.