Among The Stars

AMONG THE STARS

Official Sequel to

The Original Harry Irons Trilogy

by

Thomas C. Stone

Independently Published

www.thomascstone

Among the Stars

Second Edition

Copyright © 2019 Thomas C. Stone

All Rights Reserved

Among the Stars is a work of fiction. All characters, names, and/or places are products of the author’s imagination except where overt historical references are made. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without prior written permission of the author.

More Titles by Thomas C. Stone:

Xylanthia

Return to Xylanthia

The Galactic Center

To the Stars

Stolen Worlds

Minerva’s Soul

Among the Stars

Jenning’s Folly

The Harry Irons Trilogy

Rolling Thunder

Gender Wars

Song of the Elowai

Smolif

Incident on Walsh Street

The Libran Exchange

Collected Short Stories

Sandy Pearl and the Blades

The Cane Patch Collectors

Acknowledgements

Among the Stars is the sequel to the original Harry Irons Trilogy written by yours truly. I had not planned on writing a sequel as I was perfectly happy with the ending to Minerva's Soul. I ended it the way I planned it. If you recall, Minerva's Soul finished with Fagen showing up at Harry and Kathleen's place on Mirabel five thousand years in the past. For the mere fact that Fagen was able to locate Harry again, well, it should have told my readers all they needed to know. Harry and Kathleen were rescued from their prison. It seemed obvious to me, but apparently not so for some of my readers. A few complained that I left them hanging. What happened? they asked. At first, I was a little disappointed that some folks could not fill in the blanks for themselves, even with such a blatant hint. Then I brightened up. I realized I had an opportunity to pen another Harry Irons story; an opportunity to bring the old crew together again for another epic adventure. So, that's what I did. The Harry Irons Saga became a four-book trilogy. I loved the idea and so I wrote Among the Stars, which I consider to be the best written story of the series.

And so, I guess Among the Stars is a tribute to my readers, especially those who nagged me to write another Harry Irons' tale. I hope all of you love it as much as I loved writing it for you. As always, thanks for reading!

Prologue

The kitzloc were an enigmatic species who long ago recognized that the height of an enlightened existence was a guarded appreciation of individual freedom. With that fact as the basis for their interaction with the physical world, the kitzloc confined themselves to the planet Mirabel and thus had interests in keeping their existence unknown to all other sentient species. As space-faring races reached into the cosmos for resources and suitable worlds for colonization, Mirabel was eventually discovered -- an event not particularly unsettling to the kitzloc because in their evolutionary process, they had uncovered the power of quantum manipulation, which had quite literally given them the ability to perform extraordinary deeds as well as lend to that unique race an understanding of the universe, and reality, far beyond that acquired by other species. At least, those species living on the same dimensional plane of reality.

And so, the kitzloc lived in peace and relative harmony for millions of years, occasionally sharing their world with outsiders, but in the end always managing to manipulate the interlopers’ perceptions until the invaders eventually decided to abandon Mirabel. Of course, the trespassers always believed the decision to leave was wholly their own, whereas in reality it was not. But there finally came a time when the grand plans of the kitzloc – all born out of the desire to keep their existence secret – had such startling and far-reaching consequences that the kitzloc were compelled to gather for a discussion on how to best proceed, for it seemed that their own meddling into the nature of reality had upset the delicate balance of the universe.

Owing to the extreme alien nature of the creatures, a suitable definition for what they do, or what their abilities allow them to do, is beyond human translation. Kitzloc refer to their ability to access and manipulate quantum fields as ‘tapping the continuum’ but those few humans who have witnessed their feats, attest that it seems more like magic. Neither do Kitzloc ordinarily communicate directly, that is, face to face in the same time stream. Not because they are not capable, but because they are telepathic, in a sense, and so obstinate about their freedom that they often elect not to participate simply as a statement of basic principles. However, if they find themselves on the same continent and believe their focused energies might coalesce for mutually beneficial reasons, then they might decide to physically attend. And in that case, humans would find kitzloc to be much like other creatures. Their individual behavior is ruled by a wide range of emotions and beliefs, always with the underlying cause of self-service struggling with the notion that something will be required for the greater good (a difficult case in that even as individuals, they want to be left alone). In this case, the location of this unusual meeting was underground, in a series of ancient caves the kitzloc called a crevah, somewhere in the Great Wahabi desert of Mirabel.

Owing to their love of individuality and freedom, the kitzloc were solitary creatures by nature and so, finding so many gathered in one place was highly unusual and signified the importance of the meeting. After a considerable amount of opinionating over where to sit and perhaps it was better to stand, a lone creature felt moved to begin.

Eli, it said, addressing another attendant individual, it seems you’ve really done it this time.

Eli was not the creature’s name, but rather a moniker it used on occasion during its interaction with humans. What I have done, said Eli, could not have been accomplished without the explicit cooperation of all other kitzloc across all time streams. To blame me for the current breakdown is counter-productive to…

All right, all right, the first one intoned. We all know about your oratory skills. As far as placing blame, it doesn’t really matter at this point, does it?

Eli waved a taloned hand.

What does matter, continued the first one, is what we’re going to do about correcting things. That is, if things can be corrected at all, because, upon my life, I cannot see a way out of this.

It’s a cascade effect, said another. What’s happening in this dimension will begin to affect the other dimensions and eventually they will begin to fold in upon themselves. The speaker paused for effect, and then continued, I hope you don’t find my next statement to be utterly paranoiac, but my calculations indicate the eventual collapse of the universe.

And there is nothing we can do about it, lamented the first one again. What have we done to ourselves? Exactly that which we have worked to avoid.

Eli shook his head. That is not entirely true. If you recall, our first goal was to re-acquire our status as an unknown race. That much has been achieved.

But at what cost?

Fear not, replied Eli. All is not yet lost.

*

When Edward Fagen’s unlikely group of space pirates popped back into Sol’s system for the last time, Fagen and the crew were fairly certain their criminal status had once again been upgraded despite the pardon they had obtained just months before. That’s what’s wrong with these corporations gone wild, said Bart. They make things up as they go along.

Fagen shrugged. So do we.

So how do we know they’re not going to arrest us as soon as we step foot on Braithwaite property?

We won’t step foot anywhere until we have a deal, replied Fagen. Remember, Minerva is still the biggest prize.

The owner of the mentioned name looked at Fagen. Her human countenance was very different from that chosen when she had been an avatar of the ship’s AI. Her dark, short-cropped hair and matching eyes as well as her casual spacer’s attire would have allowed her to fit in with any crew. She still chose to call herself Minerva after the wondrous ship from which she had been physically born. In her mind, as well as the rest of the crew, save Fagen, her miraculous physical transformation into a living and breathing person was rapidly fading from her memory.

Not you, Minerva, said Fagen. I was referring to the ship.

I know, she replied, but Fagen wasn’t sure if that was indeed the case or not.

On the return trip from Mirabel where they had cleaned up the remains of the battle between Braithwaite security forces and the Tec’Lissir, Fagen had noticed changes in all his crew members. All but Bobbi had been directly influenced by the kitzloc simulation which was still running within the ship’s computer. The changes were nothing short of astounding. Minerva had been transformed from a computer simulation to a living and breathing human. Bart, effectively Fagen’s second-in-command, had been physically transformed as well from a grossly overweight caricature of a typical wirehead computer nerd into a svelte, handsome, action-figure of his former self. And then there was Arai the Bedoran simian whose intelligence had been enhanced to the point where his IQ now rivaled that of Bart’s. Fagen didn’t understand how these miraculous changes had occurred, but Harry had told him the kitzloc possessed the ability to tap the continuum, to manipulate reality by accessing the hidden properties of subatomic fields, like the so-called Higgs Field; however, there was apparently even more to it. Too bad Harry wasn’t around to explain it because a once-reluctant Fagen would now give full attention to an explanation. Especially if it would help to unlock the mystery of the kitzloc simulator. It had affected the entire crew, even Bobbi’s memory, and yet had spared Fagen – he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. On the upside, he was the only one who remembered what had happened on Mirabel. The others were rapidly forgetting and didn’t seem particularly bothered by it, except perhaps for Minerva. Fagen suspected she was having difficulty with some aspect of her new life although so far, she was reluctant to volunteer any information.

At his console, Arai suddenly snapped his slender fingers. We have a continuous burst of radio communications on multiple frequencies…

Bart frowned. Where’s it coming from?

Well, that’s the weird thing – it’s coming from us.

What?

Yes. Us. The ship. Arai swiveled in his chair and looked about the control room. Jenkins? Where are you?

Here, sir. The voice came from behind one of the couches. Jenkins’ head rose, marking his position. As he stood, all could see he carried a broom and dustpan. Just cleaning up a bit, sir.

Jenkins, do you know anything about this radio transmission? It appears to be coming from the ship, but nothing is authorized.

Just a moment, sir, while I trace the command route. Jenkins appeared to stare off into a distance no one else could see. After a few seconds passed, he looked back to Arai. Yes, the signal is being generated by our transmitters.

Yes, yes, Arai sounded exasperated, but how did it originate? None of us issued a comms command.

The avatar scratched his head. Yes, well that certainly is a mystery.

Fagen was growing weary of the back and forth. Explain please?

Well, said Jenkins, the signal is continuous and wide-band. Its origin is from a program that is native to the core but relatively new. I can add that it is some sort of a simulation. Jenkins looked at the others. But that’s all I can tell you because – oh dear, this is a little embarrassing -- I am locked out.

*

Owing to the precise nature of orbital mechanics, it took every bit of two days to align and approach an acceptable Earth-bound vector. As the time approached to hail Earth authorities, Fagen considered stalling. He was certain he and the crew would all be arrested as soon as they stepped foot at the arrival gate on Braithwaite City Two. What had happened on Mirabel wouldn’t matter. If the kitzloc had manipulated the memories of his crew, there was no proof of anything. It wouldn’t matter anyway – Braithwaite would do whatever was most advantageous to the company. So why again were they returning to Earth?

The answer to that question was complicated. As mundane as it sounded, the human members of the crew, save for Minerva, had ongoing familial and business arrangements on Earth. Surprisingly, Bobbi had been the most resistant to returning.

We don’t need to do this, she said. We can go to a half dozen colonies for fresh food, if you’re tired of the replicator food, which by the way, I am not. I haven’t heard the others complain, either. Furthermore, it’s going to cost us a fortune in legal fees to extricate ourselves from whatever Braithwaite throws at us and that’s if they don’t confiscate Minerva altogether. It’s not like they haven’t done it before, you know. You should think about Arai as well. Remember what they put him through?

Arai has changed his name. They won’t even know he’s the same Bedoran.

Bobbi’s mouth dropped open. It won’t matter, Edward, and you know it. I just don’t understand why we’re stepping into this all over again.

Fagen sighed. When he spoke again, his voice was even and soft. We’ll deal with whatever Braithwaite throws at us. I’ve enough credits stashed away to buy off half a dozen corporate governments.

In that case, why don’t you just have yourself installed on the board of directors?

Been there, done that, said Fagen half-seriously. But while that avenue is always a possibility, it takes being in touch and that’s what we’re doing – staying in touch.

So, who is it you need to ‘stay in touch’ with?

Fagen looked at Bobbi. For one, my son. I have a grandson as well, you know.

Bobbi frowned and shook her head. I’m sorry, Edward, I wasn’t thinking. I don’t have family except for you, so I wasn’t thinking along those lines. Forgive me.

He took her in his arms and held her close, cheek against the top of her head. It’s not just me. Bart has family and business interests as well. We also have to inform Harry and Kathleen’s families of their disappearance.

Who? said Bobbi.

Part I

Disaster

Chapter 1

The societies of Earth were in a turbulent period. Favored lands and resources were controlled by giant corporations that, according to their successes, doled out earnings in the form of healthcare, lodging, and wages. Those individuals not belonging to one of the corporation-states gathered like a great army of silent, hungry warriors beyond the gates of corporation cities. But it was not the constant struggle between the haves and have-nots that brought an unsettled wind unto the world; it was, rather, the galaxy-changing, whispered desires from an unknown species on a forgotten planet.

Despite all that, some things seem to go on unperturbed by cosmic vagaries of cause and effect. On Earth, Braithwaite controlled its occupied territories with an iron hand and the privileged lived as they always had, mindful of the horde at the gates but not distracted by it.

Eddie put up his hoodie and squeezed out the front door of Braithwaite Preparatory School #09 into a light rain. Other students scurried from the open door to waiting vehicles. Eddie spotted his father’s corporate limo in the queue of traffic, but avoided it by running across the wide avenue, in between idling cars, and finally seeking shelter inside the Scholar, a café when the weather was nice and a teenage watering hole when it was not. Saying hello to friends, he made his way through the crowded room to the counter and ordered a soda.

As he waited, Eddie noticed an old man with long white hair in a corner across the room, watching Eddie. He looked out of place in the youthful crowd. Father had warned him that because of their wealth, Eddie was at risk as a target for kidnappers. The old man looked pretty rough too. The clerk behind the counter served up Eddie’s soda, but when Eddie turned back, the old man had disappeared.

Eddie scanned the crowded café, and someone touched him from behind. Eddie winced and whirled. Brandi Eden, short and cute with a blond pageboy cut, stood before him with a quizzical expression. What’s the matter? You look lost or something.

No, said Eddie, looking back over his shoulder. Did you see that guy? Eddie looked to the corner again.

What guy?

Eddie shrugged. Some old guy. He really looked out of place.

Brandi gazed about the room. Teenaged students were loud and boisterous. It was not a place for adults, nor could Brandi imagine an adult wanting to be there. No, I don’t see anybody like that, she said.

He was there. He was looking at me.

Well, he’s not there now. You’re paranoid.

I’m not paranoid.

Yes, you are. Are we going to study tonight?

Eddie was still looking around for the stranger. Huh?

Trig? We have an exam tomorrow. Remember? You still want help?

Eddie ran a hand over his face. I forgot, he said, then added, I hate trig.

All right, said Brandi, I’ll see you later.

Eddie’s phone rang. The display indicated a call from his dad and Eddie flipped the cover open as he made his way out the front door.

What are you doing? Sounds like a party.

I was getting a soda.

I need you to come home. There’s some bad news.

What is it?

It’s your Grandfather and his crew. They’re gone.

What do you mean?

I mean, it looks like they’ve all been killed. An implosive event in some star system nobody’s ever heard of. I’m the executor of the estate, so I have to do the clean-up. I need some help.

What can I do?

Move some things out of his place into storage.

"Grandad’s place is storage, dad. How long has it been since he was here? Ten years?"

More like fifteen. Can you meet me after I leave the office? Six-ish? I’ve marked which boxes, mostly legal documents I’ll need for the attorneys. The boxes are on the floor in the second story office.

Sure. I’ll see you then. Eddie terminated the call and thought about his Grandfather Edward. He had never met the man, but he knew plenty about him. Edward Fagen was a pioneer of space exploration and he did it all while working as a Braithwaite Survey Mission Commander. Even after he became a privateer, he made news by hijacking an alien starship and somehow forcing the Braithwaite suits to cooperate. He was on Earth – well, at least in orbit – a couple of years ago, but Eddie missed him because of ongoing questions of ownership concerning the same vessel. Most people would think it odd there was no family estrangement and yet parents, grandparents and grandchildren seldom saw one another. The thing is, Edward Fagen was a galaxy traveler. Time dilation was an aspect of his life. All professional space travelers understood the impossibility of maintaining contact with family relations. Oh, it wasn’t like we didn’t receive Christmas cards and the occasional enote from hyperspace, but face-to-face encounters and smiley hugs? No, Grandpa Fagen was an adventurer and that did not include the mundane life in Earth’s corporate zones. All the same, Eddie felt bad for Grandfather Fagen and wondered if the equally famous Harry Irons knew of Fagen’s demise. Irons, of course, had been a partner of his Grandfather’s. Sort of. Eddie had read all about their explorations, all about the new worlds they discovered prior to the closing of their means of transportation, the Klein/Morrison wormhole. At the end of one voyage, Irons’ first with Fagen as Commander, they returned with a marvelous alien spaceship that would have made the wormhole obsolete if it hadn’t decided to poof out of existence. Nature was fickle. Anyway, Irons had not returned from his last mission and was rumored to have died from an illness contracted on one of the many worlds he had visited.

Eddie’s home was in an elite neighborhood of high rises across from Central Park. The drizzle had turned into a full-fledged downpour by the time Eddie bounced up the granite steps at Executive Place. Andrew, the security guard, waved to Eddie from his seat at the security desk as Eddie walked to the elevators. Hello, Mr. Andrew. How are you?

I’m fine, came the reply. Eddie hit the ‘UP’ button and the elevator door opened without a wait. Eddie tapped out 21 on the keypad and the doors closed and the elevator car moved up to the twenty-first floor. There was only one residence on the twenty-first and its entrance was directly across from the elevator door. Eddie tapped in a code on a pad to the right of the door and the large, thick door popped open. Eddie let himself into the apartment’s opulent interior. His room was on the third floor. More specifically, the third floor was more or less Eddie’s floor. His dad and occasional guests (like mom) used the first and second floors but Eddie used the five rooms comprising the third level.

He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his school sweater on his way to the couch in what Eddie considered his favorite room. What made it his favorite room wasn’t only its size but because it was also the room Eddie spent the most time in. All told, on the third floor was a kitchen, a large bathroom with showers a soaking tub, a full gym, a bedroom with fireplace, and the main room. No back door, either: it was the top of the building. When Eddie reached the couch, he fell face first into a jumble of pillows and quickly fell asleep.

*

Eddie awoke with a start. Shadows indicated the approaching evening and it was still raining outside. What time was it? His cell rang and Eddie realized it had been ringing for a while. Hello, he said without seeing who was calling.

His father’s voice, stern. Eddie? What are you doing? I’m here waiting.

Eddie jumped to his feet. I’m sorry, dad, I must’ve passed out after I got home from school.

What? You were asleep? Eddie, it’s raining, and I’ve been waiting.

I’m sorry, said Eddie.

Are you still coming?

I’m on my way. Still holding the phone to his ear, Eddie grabbed a jacket on his way out. Reception wasn’t so hot in the elevator, but not so bad to cover up his father’s disappointment.

What are you going to do, Eddie, when you have to deliver but don’t follow through because you had to take a nap? It’s the same thing about this school business. Your grades are good enough to attend Braithwaite University…

Old B-U, said Eddie

It’s a good school, Edward; it was good enough for me and I haven’t done badly.

I’m not saying it’s not good enough. I never said that.

What are you saying?

It’s just not what I want to do,

We’ve discussed this before. Remember?

Yes.

And we agreed that the best thing was to follow the admin track. Yes?

You agreed, not me.

Oh, here we go again. It’s raining. Are you coming?

The doorbell rang.

Yes, said Eddie, I’m on my way. He stuck the phone in his pocket and pulled on his jacket. How could he have napped out like that? Dad was right. Eddie had to learn how to keep up."

He remembered to set security with a touch to the locking pad and strode out the opening door and straight into Brandi, who was waiting for someone to answer.

Sorry! said Eddie, even before asking if she was all right. Brandi was small, almost elfin, and she seldom held physical ground among her peers. She took it good-naturedly. I’m fine, she said as Eddie helped her up. What’s the hurry? she asked.

Sorry! Eddie said again.

You already said that, Eddie. Are we not going to study tonight? Did I come all the way over here for nothing? She trailed Eddie into the elevator and they headed down.

I am so sorry, said Eddie. I’ll get your cab fare home.

Yes, you will, thank you. Where are you going in such a hurry?

My father is waiting for me at my grandfather’s house and I’m late. Dad’s pissed.

Well, I’m here and seeing as how you’ve never asked me on a date, I’ll just tag along and meet your dad.

Oh, this is probably not the best time to meet my dad. He’s a little put out with me.

I can handle your dad, Brandi said smugly and then looked at Eddie. What are you smiling about?

You know my dad is practically Mr. Braithwaite in this sector, right?

I’m impressed, responded Brandi. My dad drives a truck.

No, no, I didn’t mean it like that.

Like what? Class envy? I hadn’t given it a thought until you brought it up. Hmm?

I, I…

The elevator slowed, stopped, and the doors opened. Brandi burst out laughing. I’m playing with you, Eddie, lighten up. She scampered out ahead of him across the lobby as Mr. Andrew watched.

*

In the rear of the darkened cab, Eddie felt awkward and wondered if the pixie liked him for himself or his father’s money. The truth was, soon to be eighteen year old Edward Fagen III, despite being the grandson of the greatest space explorer in Earth’s history (purists argue that Harry Irons was the greatest only because he started later and there is the annoying fact that his body had not yet been recovered from the backwater planet where he had died, or gone missing) was shy around girls, especially ones who came on as strong as Brandi, not that a lot of girls came on to Eddie at all. And then it occurred to Eddie that she had come over to study. Was it a pretense? Of course. She was coming along on the excursion to Grandfather’s like a trooper. All Eddie’s fears were allayed when Brandi the pixie took Eddie’s hand in one tiny hand while the other turned Eddie’s face to hers. She was smiling so hard, her eyes were narrow lines and then she kissed him and he quit thinking about anything at all until the cab pulled up to Grandfather Fagen’s address.

Eddie and Brandi ran from the cab through the rain and up the steps to the main foyer. A robo-receptionist noted their entrance and made a digital log entry as the two boarded the elevator and went up to the elderly Fagen’s Earth digs. Like Eddie and his father, grandfather had several floors to himself. At least, he did when he still spent time on Earth, which he hadn’t in years and now never would again. Eddie tried the front door and found it open. He pushed it open and called his father. No answer.

Brandi looked around and suggested he may be upstairs. This is a big place, she said.

I think he preferred the confines of a spaceship.

Go figure that, said Brandi as she began to check out the furnishings. I don’t even know what half this stuff is, she admitted.

He brought things back from his trips. Careful what you touch. I wonder where my dad is?

Brandi approached a floor length mirror in the hallway. Here’s a note stuck to the mirror, she said. She peeled it from the dusty surface and handed it to Eddie.

It’s from my dad, said Eddie. He says he got tired of waiting and had to go back to the office anyway. Eddie shook his head. Oh, he’s going to be mad at me.

Well, what do you have to do?

There’s some boxes up in Grandfather’s office. I need to take them home for dad.

OK, which way?

Eddie pointed. Up the stairs.

As they started up, Brandi commented, It’s kind of scary in here. When Eddie didn’t respond, she asked, Did your grandfather bring any aliens back with him?

At the top of the stairs, Eddie shrugged. You never know. I did hear something about one creature that would tear its human victims limb from limb…

Don’t, she said, you’re trying to scare me.

Is it working?

Yes, so stop. Where are we going?

Eddie guided them to an open door that led to a study. Grandfather Fagen’s old desk sat in one corner of the room while a couch and bookcases dominated the other end. Between were two worktables piled high with an assortment of paper, artifacts, and computers. The boxes Eddie was looking for were piled on the floor near the door. Eddie identified them quickly.

There’s some far-out stuff in here, said Brandi as she handled a fist-sized insect preserved in clear plastic. It was covered in dust and Brandi wiped it clean with her hands. Do you think, asked Brandi, that they killed this ant… she looked at it closely, or whatever, then covered it in clear goo, or that they just poured it all over the poor creature without any type of ceremony?

"Maybe Grandfather Fagen picked it up at a souvenir shop in which case, they probably do a batch at a time.