Andromeda Day and the Black Hole Read online

  She smiled up at Deneb, hugging him tightly around the waist. “Don’t worry. You did the right thing. I’m glad I’m here with you. We do all right, don’t we?”

  He smiled back, although, as usual, it was tinged with sadness. “Yes, we do all right.” He kissed her on the top of her head. “Now, do you want to come with me? We’ve entered Thoume’s orbit.”

  “Okay. Let me freshen up and I’ll meet you on the bridge.”

  Deneb left and Andi sighed. She went over to the washbasin and splashed her face with water, then let the hot air unit gently dry her skin until it went all tingly. She wished the water could also wash away the hurt and embarrassment she’d felt at Merak’s remarks. She already knew that she wasn’t going back to the classroom. It wasn’t compulsory that she attend anyway, she tried to comfort herself. She could take all the lessons and exams on board the ship. She only went to the classes because she liked to have some contact with other Earth children of her own age. But why did she bother? All they ever did was make her miserable. She was better off being on board the Antiquarian with Deneb and the crew, who never gave her improvements any thought.

  She pushed Merak and his jealous, angry eyes to the back of her mind. She had other things to think about now. They were nearing Thoume, which meant that Deneb would soon be itching to get out there, making deals. Leaving her behind on board the ship to worry about him, as usual.

  She walked along the thickly carpeted corridor to the elevator that would take her up to the bridge. The Antiquarian was not a large starship, with a crew of only thirty or so, but if you didn’t know the floor plan it would be easy to get lost in its maze of corridors and levels. Andi never got lost, of course—after six months of living on board she knew every inch of every floor, and anyway, she had a photographic memory so she could recall its plan any time she wished, although she tried not to rely on it. She tried not to rely on any of her extraordinary talents, preferring to exist on her human skills as much as possible, in an effort to feel more normal.

  It was strange sometimes, she thought, looking up at the subdued lighting and pale green walls, after living thirteen years on Earth, to think that now, as she walked along the corridor which looked exactly the same as one in a habitation sector on her home planet, she was actually on board a spaceship, hurtling through the stars at twenty times the speed of light.

  Andi was very proud of their ship. It was an extraordinary shape, the product of the imagination of a man whose mind was more often than not daydreaming about a time several centuries prior to the one they were currently in: namely, her father, Deneb.

  The Antiquarian was actually a flying museum, the only one in their part of the Galaxy, as far as either of them knew. It had been Deneb’s idea, of course. He’d been a collector of both Earth and alien artifacts for many years, and the ship reflected his love of all things past.

  The outer surface of much of the ship was constructed from a composite called Carbex—a form of Perspex interlaced with tiny carbon fibers that made it completely transparent, but also strong enough to withstand the incredible atmospheric pressure of space. The overall effect of this was that the Antiquarian looked as if it were made entirely of glass, just like the Crystal Palace, the amazing building in Hyde Park in London where the Great Exhibition had been held in Old-Time nineteenth century.

  Like the Palace, the ship had a long central section with an arching roof similar to the nave of a church, which served as the museum and housed all of the Antiquarian’s major exhibits. Unlike the Palace, however, at each end of the museum was a large cube-shaped structure, which in effect made the ship almost the shape of a large dumb-bell.

  Andi pondered on her father’s love of archaeology as she wandered through the corridors. She’d always considered his passion for the past an amusing quirk of his nature, but in reality it was a common enough hobby amongst Earth people, many of whom had an interest in their own history, particularly as there was so little left of it.

  Late in the Old-Time twenty-first century, in a last desperate measure to avoid a third world war, the Coalition of Countries had been formed, and a collective move had been made by those involved to try and put all religious differences and historical problems behind them. They’d tried to achieve this by returning the timeline to zero, and many historical documents, artifacts, and sites had been destroyed, as it had been decided that the past was no longer of any importance to a society who wished only to look forward. Children had begun to be named after stars, constellations, and planets, and space travel had evolved in leaps and bounds as scientific research and exploration had become the number one priority.

  The Coalition had been successful, partly at least, because when different peoples of the world had tried to put behind them the past atrocities committed by other nations and concentrate instead on how they were being treated in the present, war had soon became a thing of the past. But of course, all things go in cycles, and it had only taken a few hundred years or so before people had begun to wonder about their history, and collecting books and artifacts had become a popular hobby.

  So it was with Deneb, except that her father had an advantage over many other collectors, thought Andi with a smile. Deneb was almost as clever as she was with her electronic brain. She sometimes thought of him as an old-fashioned magician. He was quick, sharp, and smart, using sleight-of-mind rather than sleight-of-hand, distracting you by talking fast and convincingly, and before a person knew it they’d handed over the very thing they’d been convinced in the beginning they were never going to sell. And if he couldn’t talk them into selling an artifact? Why then he would steal it, so perhaps you could say he used sleight-of-hand as well.

  In this way Deneb had built up a huge collection of artifacts of civilizations from all over the Galaxy. And after he’d stolen so much money to pay for Andi’s improvements, and he’d realized that he was going to have to leave Earth if he didn’t want to go to prison, he’d decided that he might as well put his collection to good use.

  He’d paid to have a ship built—at least he’d done that much, thought Andi wryly—making the center section the most important part in his eyes—the museum. Here he’d displayed a selection of all the artifacts, books, and photographs that he’d collected, with many more being placed in the archives housed in the bottom cube. Then, taking Andi with him, he’d set off into space, collecting more artifacts from the various civilizations that he passed, and charging them to come on board and view the objects that described life in the Milky Way.

  So far, it had been a very successful venture, Andi thought, as she turned left into another green-carpeted corridor, heading for the elevators at the end. Most species were eager to pay to see how others lived, and it wasn’t long before they were making a tidy profit, enough at least to keep the ship repaired and themselves and their small crew fed and clothed. Of course, it was only a matter of time before one of the crime protection organizations in the Galaxy caught them, as many of Deneb’s displays were still acquired by borrowing them without permission (as Deneb called it—Andi called it stealing), but she was happy enough travelling through the Universe, meeting ever stranger species, and trying to keep Deneb out of trouble.

  The elevator doors swished open at her approach to reveal a large cylindrical room. She stepped inside and said, firmly: “Bridge, please.” The please wasn’t strictly essential, but Andi always liked to be polite, even when speaking to the central computer. They called it the Waiter—although Andi tended to think of it as a ‘him’ rather than an ‘it’.

  “Yes, Andi,” said the Waiter in his low, pleasant voice. The doors swished shut, and the elevator rose smoothly.

  The bridge, the crew’s quarters, the galley, mess, and recreational levels comprised the top cube of the Antiquarian. The museum formed the main middle section, and the bottom cube consisted of the museum archives, the main engine room and the cargo bay.

  The crew were a strange hotchpotch of peoples. Many of them were runaway
s, like her and Deneb—people who had committed some minor crime on their home planet and were thus unable to return there, for some time at least. Deneb wasn’t proud and allowed anyone on his ship that was committed and worked hard. But everyone knew that if you didn’t knuckle down, and if you treated the ship as a free ride, you were offloaded onto the nearest planet with a breathable atmosphere. As the Antiquarian passed through the Galaxy, occasionally one of the crew members would find a place they felt they could settle down, and then they would leave the ship, but there was always someone else waiting to step aboard, someone happy to work hard if they had food and somewhere to sleep. There was always something happening, some scrape that they were getting into, that made the Antiquarian an interesting place to be.

  And today looked to be no different. Andi clung to the side of the elevator as the ship shuddered. It felt as if they were being fired upon. She jumped from foot to foot in her impatience to get there more quickly, and then fell out of the doors as they opened and spewed her onto the floor of the bridge.

  “Lying around, Andromeda?” Deneb cast her an amused glance. “Come on, get on your feet and give me a hand.”

  Chapter Two

  The large room known as the bridge formed the top section of the upper cube of the Antiquarian. The ceiling and all four walls were constructed from Carbex, and they gave a breathtaking view of the part of the Galaxy through which they were travelling. To a newcomer the effect could be quite unsettling as it seemed as if you were actually sitting out in space, but Andi was used to it, and spent a lot of her free time up there, studying the star systems first hand rather than from computer files.

  The center of the room was taken up with a huge workstation, the middle of which was inlaid with a Liquid Crystal Display computer screen on which Andi could call up the plans for every chartered star system of the Milky Way, along with details of the planets, such as their geology, geography, and temperatures, and the civilizations that lived on them.

  A curving table dominated the front of the bridge, running from one side of the room to the other, in which were set various LCD screens displaying details about the ship and the star systems through which they were travelling. In the center of the table sat the Waiter’s main terminal. From here Deneb could control the course and speed of the ship, the weapons relay, and other important functions like life support. He sat there now, studying a geophysical survey of the planet that hung before him like a child’s ball thrown up into the stars.

  Andi joined him there hurriedly, scanning the view before her, surprised to see no ships nearby. “Who’s firing on us? I felt a jolt.”

  He turned around and drew her towards him with a hand. “Nobody— it was stray fire from the planet’s surface. The Plions were right— it looks like there’s a war going on down there.” The Plions were the last civilization they’d traded with—on the outer rim of the star system, who had told them what they knew about Thoume and its people.

  Sure enough, as they looked down on the large planet, its breathable atmosphere making it look very much like Earth—purple-blue skies and swirling white clouds—she could see small explosions on the landmasses, and the black scarring of burned cities.

  “Not a good idea,” Andi said. “Come on Dad, let’s pass on to the next system, we don’t want to get caught up in a war.” She was disappointed at not being able to make contact with the planet. The Plions had said that there was a rare tetragonal crystal known as Indigo Quartz present on Thoume. They’d even shown Andi and Deneb a few pieces they’d bought on a trading mission to the planet. Andi and her father had stared wide-eyed at the beautiful crystal, which had glowed a soft purple flecked with silver sparkles. Indigo Quartz, the Plions had explained, was not only beautiful to look at, but its complicated crystalline structure also helped in the development of psychic powers.

  Deneb—not one for ‘witchy’ stuff, as he called it—had snorted at that and continued to talk about the crystal trade and how much a piece could expect to bring off-world, but later Andi had asked one of the Plions about its alternative uses. The Plions had explained that the crystal helped an individual to channel his or her power of thought. Its use depended upon one’s own ability—for some, it strengthened their telepathic talent, for others it gave them greater sensitivity to people’s feelings, yet others discovered their ability to heal was greatly increased. Andi knew that crystals had been used on Earth for many centuries to channel energies. However, the Plions had explained that the power of Indigo Quartz was supposed to exceed other kinds of crystal more than tenfold, and it was therefore in great demand.

  Andi had been looking forward to getting some Thoume artifacts to add to their displays on board, and she was also secretly hoping to acquire some of the Quartz to investigate her own psychic abilities. Deneb, of course, had also hoped to come by some for more material purposes. But now it looked as if they would have to pass it by.

  Deneb, however, had other ideas. “Are you mad? Were you listening when they mentioned the Quartz?”

  “Of course I was. I’d love to get hold of some. But there’s a war going on!”

  He dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand. “There’s always time for trade.”

  “In the middle of a war? Have you had your brain removed? Who’s going to be interested in buying and selling when they could die at any moment?”

  “Haven’t you learned anything about business, Andi? There are always those who are willing to use the misfortunes of others to make a profit.”

  “Including you?”

  He glared at her.

  She glared back. “And what about getting your own head blown off, aren’t you worried about that?”

  He grinned then. “Come on now, you know I have nine lives.”

  “Hmm.” She sighed. “I just don’t know how many you’ve used up.” She came a bit closer and held his hand. “Come on, Dad, it’s not worth us risking our lives for a few pieces of crystal.”

  “It’s not just that…” His voice trailed off. She watched him fight with himself as if debating whether to tell her something. But after a while he looked away, studying the screen in front of him. “I’m going down,” he said shortly. “Don’t try to talk me out of it.” Not looking at her, he pressed a button on the large keyboard in front of him. “Waiter?”

  “Yes, Deneb?” the Waiter said pleasantly.

  “Can you page Jack please?”

  “Yes, Deneb.”

  Andi watched as her father programed in a circular orbit around Thoume, high in the atmosphere, out of reach of their ground radars. She wondered what he had been going to tell her. His words implied that there was more to his visit than merely acquiring the Quartz. But what else could he possibly want, apart from more artifacts?

  She remembered back to their visit to Plion, where Deneb had requested a meeting with one of their ambassadors. She’d asked if she could accompany him, but he’d refused. She’d not thought much about it at the time, after all she was only fourteen and Deneb didn’t confide in her about the business of running the ship. But he hadn’t been in a good mood when he came out of the room. At the time she’d assumed the Plions had turned down some request for an artifact that Deneb had his eye on—now, however, she wondered what their conversation had concerned.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked eventually, realizing he wasn’t going to tell her anything more.

  “Go down in the Sparrowhawk and see if I can talk to someone who will let us have a few bits and pieces. No-one’s answering any communication out here.”

  “Well, I’m coming too. It’s the only way I can keep an eye on you.”

  “Okay.” He looked over at her. “See that pig flying past the planet?”

  She was unperturbed. She’d not been off the ship for ages and was desperate to feel real ground beneath her feet. “So how are you going to talk to them, then?”

  “I’ll use my clip.”

  “That will help you translate their language, bu
t how will you speak back to them?” Andi had invented an interpreter clip for use aboard the Antiquarian. It consisted of a small receiver worn inside the ear by all the staff that transmitted a signal sent from the translation clip attached to their clothing. It enabled all those on board to be able to communicate without having to make everyone learn the different languages. It was a marvelous invention, but it was of little use off-ship—although the clip would attempt to translate a foreign language using the patterns of speech that it already knew, if the other person wasn’t wearing a clip they wouldn’t understand the replies given.

  It wasn’t so much of a problem for Andi because her electronic brain gave her a head start with learning languages, but it wasn’t so easy for Deneb. He was quick, but not always quick enough, and it had led to problems on more than one occasion.

  “Remember Tanaraq?” she reminded him.

  Deneb pulled a face and she knew he was thinking about the moment he’d replied to a Tanaraq question and instead of saying the compliment he had intended, it had come out, apparently, as one of the rudest insults in their language. Needless to say he’d returned to the ship that day empty handed and more than a little embarrassed.

  He was quiet for a moment, and she struggled to read what he was thinking. She knew, after what had happened to her mother—after what she herself had gone through—that he felt a need to protect her. But she was fourteen now, and she was desperate to get off the ship. She said nothing, but her eyes begged him to let her go.

  He smiled then, reached out, and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “You look more and more like your mother every day,” he said, a catch in his voice. He cleared his throat. “All right, you can come. But you must promise to do as I say—no going off on your own or anything.”