Lords of the Seventh Swarm

Chapter 6

Dooring never got much respect from Lord Felph. Ignored half the time, worked like a slave the rest. But today … today had been a nightmare-organizing a sumptuous dinner for the entire planet, one that Lord Felph promptly sabotaged, followed by a trip to chauffeur the new employees via florafeem, followed by a late night of minor surgeries to remove Felph’s children’s Guides. Afterward he’d had to clean the dining halls, and, last of all, he now stood before Gallen’s ship, the Nightswift, which only moments before had been flown to Felph’s hangars on autopilot.

It wasn’t enough to be Felph’s personal valet; Dooring had the misfortune of being the planet’s official dockmaster. As such, his obligations were simple. He had to verify that the ship didn’t carry any contraband, and that it was properly registered.

The job only took a few minutes.

Using a keycard, he verified to the ship’s Al that he was the dockmaster, then entered the ship. The Nightswift was a fast little personnel ship. The kind of thing that only the very wealthiest people could afford.

The inside was plush-plump couches, a fashionable flower arrangement on a small table, large staterooms. No one on Ruin lived in such luxury. Indeed, most folks on planet couldn’t dream of ever buying passage off-world. Dooring wondered. Gallen and Maggie were seeking jobs with old mad Felph when, if they had half the brains of a wetland mudsucker, they’d hop in their ship and fly off.

Dooring nosed around through the staterooms for a few minutes, studying the few possessions Gallen and the others had brought. He checked the cargo hold; it was nearly empty.

He went to the ship’s registry terminal and requested information on the ship’s registration and passenger logs.

He discovered that the ship was registered as a government-owned vehicle. Not a private ship at all. That was odd.

The news sent a little flutter in Dooring’s stomach. For a long moment, he wondered what to do. Gallen hadn’t identified himself as a government agent. As a Lord Protector, it was quite possible that he would be a government agent, but then he would be assigned a post.

Was he traveling undercover?

Yet he seemed to have no destination in mind, not if he were willing to stay here and work for Felph.

No, there was something curious about Gallen. Dooring had seen the fear in Maggie’s face earlier in the evening, when Rame had asked what brought them all to Ruin. She’d been terrified to the core of her soul.

She’s running from something, Dooring decided. Perhaps they were all running from something. Maybe this Gallen wasn’t even a Lord Protector, but only wore the stolen mantle of some dead man.

Dooring wondered: could the ship be stolen?

There was no ansible available on planet, but this ship had one. Dooring went to the ansible, requested a “security priority one” transmission, so that the ship’s Al would automatically delete any record of his call after it was made, then sent a broadband message across the cosmos, alerting authorities in the Milky Way that here on Ruin, a world in the Carina Galaxy, he had discovered a certain Lord Protector named Gallen O’Day flying what appeared to be a stolen spaceship. He sent the ship’s registration numbers along with the planetary coordinates, and sat back. Even at speeds much faster than light, the message would take a couple hours to reach the Milky Way.

Dooring didn’t want to wait for a reply. It was late, late, and his sweet wife Keri waited in bed.

Still, Dooring felt satisfied. If Gallen was hiding from someone, for whatever reason, Dooring had just blown the lad’s cover.

Wouldn’t it be grand, Dooring thought, if I caught this fellow in some scheme? Perhaps then Lord Felph would give me some respect.

Dooring smiled to himself, satisfied, as he exited the ship.