Outpost 37

Chapter 1:

Win’s POV

I jolted awake as the transport carrier went over a particularly steep bump in the road.

I stretched and groaned. I hadn’t remembered dropping off, and now my mouth tasted like dirt.

Uck.

Well, it might be a rough-around-the-edges colony world, but at least I could get a shower and brush my teeth.

Syntho coffee would have to do for now. I took a long pull from the canister in my hand. Blech, it tasted a little worse and had gotten cold, but it was better than nothing.

Caffeine acted as a blocker for me when I was around people, and there were plenty on this transport—there were so many thoughts and feelings pouring off of people that it made it hard to function, curse of having extra abilities, I guess—so I was never without it. No wonder I fell asleep with it in my hand.

Everyone here was scared, stressed, and looking for work. Not a fun emotional soup to sit in by any stretch.

The bleariness of sleep faded away, and my mind turned back to the reason I came out here.

I flicked on my comm band and pulled up the news report that had come across the wire two nights ago. I scanned through it again.

This one had caught my eye. Something seemed off about it... the colonists suddenly going mad... the batches of missing kids, and in another report from a smaller news outlet, they mentioned the elderly going missing in batches too. That had started a full month and a half before the bouts of rapid-onset insanity. It didn’t sit right with me.

The report was theorizing a new toxin in the soil, but I really doubted it. I would love to think it was something that innocuous... but I knew better.

I had seen something like this before... well, a few times before. And I had a feeling these folks were in real danger that they were completely unprepared for.

So I was going to look into it. I was officially here to look for work... I learned early that you can’t just walk up to people and ask if their problems are related to the supernatural. Hey folks, seen any ghosts or demons lately?... that is not a good way to go.

So I would look for work, make a few credits, and see if I could find those missing kiddos. And the missing elders... I halfway hoped that they were all together so the kids had somebody to watch after them.

I hoped I was wrong, but my gut instinct screamed it had nothing to do with the soil.

I sighed and clicked off the holographic display of the report. I leaned my head back on the seat’s headrest. It was uncomfortable, hard plascrene, but it would do. All transport ships and ground vehicles were practically printed out of the stuff to stop bugs, parasites, and vermin from making a home in the vehicles and spreading.

I looked down at my left arm, where Vox was coiled around it. He was nice and warm—that was a plus. He was in low, low power mode... the artificial intelligence version of deep sleep. I ran a finger along his midnight-colored scales. He moved in his sleep, showing off the slight indigo-purple shimmer that went unseen when he was still. If he was super still, he almost looked like a tattoo up my arm... he had been mistaken for it once or twice.

I smiled. I had actually stolen him by accident from a scrap heap. Well, his A.I. consciousness anyway. We had fashioned a body for him—his piuck—once he came online. We both figured it would be easier to cart him around this way... and he could also move and hover on his own if I got into trouble.

It was a good deal. I was always surprised at how warm he stayed. He said it was his power cell venting... I had found the specs and seen that he had built a low heating unit into his body model. Awww, Vox was seriously the best!

On second thought, I flipped my comm cuff to a livestream of rain on a stream and clicked the link to the implant behind my left ear. It would only project that sound to my ear. It was how I relaxed and stayed grounded in a crowd.

Leaning back, I checked the time—I still had roughly a two-hour ride to the Outpost 37 waystation. Judging by the terrain, it was only going to get bumpier. Ehhh, I wouldn’t be sleeping again anyway, my thoughts were too restless. If I was home, I would have gone for a long walk. But I was stuck in my seat... so I mentally took a walk.

For about the ten billionth time, I wished that Soren was here. My old mentor would have been able to psychically scan the outpost from his living room and tell what was going on. He was just that good. Of course, he was pretty old... he had had a lot of time to hone his skills.

I petted Vox’s back.

It’s funny—when I ran into him as a kid... I had no idea Soren was a ghost. It took me a few years to figure it out.

Well, to be fair, I had had my mind on other things... it was after the invasion, and during the years when the six factions that took over Earth were busily negotiating and carving up the planet into their territories.

My fingers went to the amulet around my neck and polished it thoughtfully, an old habit when I got stressed. Reminiscing on those days made Soren’s absence heavier.

The amulet’s smooth surface always made me feel better. It had been Soren’s first gift to me. It had been his originally, a long, long time ago. A simple, smooth, thick amber cabochon set in a simple silver bezel. Baltic amber, he had said.

I shut my eyes with it pressed tightly between my fingers.

Chapter 2:

Win’s POV

My mouth twisted in derision.

The invaders’ politics didn’t make much difference to me and the rest of the starving, orphaned kiddos who were trying to survive... just meant more crap to deal with.

And the territory wars—well, they really just added insult to injury for us humans.

And sure, the rest of the human colonies found out after the fact and made the invaders’ lives hell through bureaucracy—it wasn’t like they were going to war with anyone... even the people who stormed their homeworld—but Earth was still invader territory. There were just more restrictions now. I hoped one day it would be home again, but I wasn’t optimistic.

The restrictions just meant that the invading races had to look like they cared about the humans still left living on Earth. That fake care came too late for most of us Earthers. I hoped that it helped the ones that were left back home, though.

I had been lucky. Most weren’t that lucky.

After my parents were killed in the raids—it was a nasty one—the species called the Duab were sent to my section. They were a species that looked and acted a lot like anthropomorphized predatory wasps. Nasty creatures who were cruel for sport. They were universally loathed... so it wasn’t just me.

I rubbed the scar on my upper arm. Duab pulsar rifles were quite the piece of work. I was lucky it had just grazed me. My dad had taken a beam to the back... he had disintegrated slowly in front of Mom and me. She got in the way so I could get away—told me to run and not ever look back. And I did. I remembered her screams. They had a different quality than Dad’s.

I relaxed my jaw. I was starting to grind my teeth.

I had run blindly. Now I knew it was the adrenaline and cortisol flooding my system along with a healthy dose of fear. Honestly, I don’t even know how I ended up at the huge old house where I found Soren.

I always wondered if my guides had steered me there.

They wouldn’t answer me when I asked.

My mom used to call them my imaginary friends. But they weren’t imaginary—they were a whole crew of spirits that knew a heck of a lot more than I did. They also had told me over and over to try to get my parents to take me offworld. A vacation to the colonies, to another world—they recommended a world near the Sirius star—now we know it as the Kannai territories. Or one out in the Segron sector—nobody knew what was out that way. But my guides had pushed so hard. And I had tried and tried and tried. I tried everything—I had never seen my guides so adamant before—tantrums, fits, my health, eye-batting, and finally the truth. Nothing. And the truth was worse than the tantrums. We were on the poorer side, but we were happy. A trip offworld wasn’t really in the budget, but we could have made it work. But it didn’t happen.

I sighed at the memory and felt the sting behind my eyes that signaled tears were on the way. No, no, nope, and absolutely NOT. Crying would fix absolutely nothing, and I had done enough of it as a little girl. I was a grown-up... and every tear that didn’t pass my eyelashes was a victory against the Duab and the forces that flattened my world. They didn’t get my tears, and I was still alive... and making a difference. So to hell with them!

I felt my guides press in a bit. They had witnessed it all. One of them pressed an image of the big old mansion—Soren’s “home.”

I smiled as I thought about that place. I had so many great memories there. Eventually, Soren had helped me find the deed, and he used spellwork to change the name to mine. It meant that I really had a home, and no one could take me out of it. Apparently, the house was historically protected too... which was a plus.

I chuckled quietly to myself as I thought back.

I had ended up wandering to an old abandoned house and touched the wrong thing.

It was a big, dark, and spooky old house... but to a frightened little kid who’d just lost everything... it was a place to hide. Can’t find somebody in the dark, after all.

There were all kinds of things in that house—plenty of which were cursed or holding a spell or entity. Soren told me much later that the guy who had the house thought of himself as a neo dark sorcerer of sorts... the guy was a huge poser with a lot of money and a twisted mentality. He had almost no talent outside of cursework and other nasty hoodoo bits and bobs.

Soren had watched him the entire time and said nothing. The guy was named something like Donny Morningwell or some such. Soren called him Morningwood in a derisive fashion. It took me a while to work that one out... ouch! Apparently, Mr. Morningwell was a tool.

Interestingly, Soren could stay dormant but watch everything. He could make himself visible to the everyday person when it suited him or remain invisible. He had even been able to fly under the radar of a few truly gifted psychics, effectively cloaking his presence to gather more information. I’d seen him do this several times. And when the patrols came to check the house as a last resort, he had appeared to them and given a long lecture on trampling on historic properties.

It was also when I first noticed that none of the invading races had more than a flicker of psychic ability.

When I asked Soren, his face had become grim, and he said something about a controlled culling. He had immediately ordered all the electronics that I had managed to scrounge from trash pods to the dump a few lots down the road.

I had protested hard, but he went unmoved. We went old-school teaching. I had to do calculus with only pencil and paper... I hated it! But Soren was a great teacher, and while crabby, perpetually annoyed, and definitely condescending... he was patient. And he was nurturing. I knew Soren cared about me. He hadn’t just been my teacher for magic and psychic stuff... or even my teacher for more practical matters. He was more like a step-up father. The night I lost him, it felt like I lost the last piece of my family.

His absence tore a huge hole in me, and if it wasn’t for being able to feel his soul tether still pulling at me, I don’t think I would be able to keep going.

Much later, after I had acquired Vox, I had him scan through the different broadcasts and programs, and he found an odd signal. The signal boosted intelligence, but the cost was a neural rewiring... which meant that psychic abilities—even the normal gut instinct—were being rewired out of the brains of anyone watching it. Children—the younger, the more susceptible—were especially at risk. When I asked if it was just a byproduct, Vox scanned the signal and reported that no... the signal was specifically engineered to do both. Whoever created it... they had meant to cut out psychic abilities.

Chapter 3:

Win’s POV

I ran my hand over my eyes. I felt alone right then—small and cold and very, very alone.

Vox chirruped, and I smiled. I was being silly again.

I looked down to see him looking up at me. His dark serpentine body was coiled under him—he chose a long, serpenty dragon form without wings because he felt they would just get in the way for him, although I secretly think he was regretting not having flashy wings, so I might just get him the upgrade and make them detachable once I had enough credits—and he was watching me with big, worried green eyes. His golden pupil slits had compressed, betraying his emotional state. As an A.I.... he really wasn’t supposed to have emotions, and I wondered about that... but maybe it was just a facsimile of emotion. Who knew... either way, he was being extra sweet.

And by his look, he had been sitting and watching me for a while.

I ran my hand over the top of his little head, and he pressed into my palm, rubbing his scaly melon firmly and vigorously into my skin. Poor little guy had been super stressed out.

“It’s okay, dude. I’m alright. Just a bit of a turn down memory lane... those memories should go in a box marked DO NOT OPEN—EVER. Huh.”

He blinked at me, and I saw sadness wash over him. He leaned against my chest and closed his eyes again. He was warm, and I ended up dropping off again.

They were on the second call to leave the transport by the time I woke up. Oops!

I flipped Vox around my neck and snatched my pack from under my seat, shoving my syntho coffee canister into its worn pocket. I bounced up, ran a hand through my hair—I kept it short for hygiene, but it was always a mess of dark curls that nothing would tame, courtesy of my Latina mom... my bright pink streak in the front would need a re-dye, welp, another maintenance item when I got the credits. The color and stripe placement were specifically to deter facial recognition (Soren and my guides had been pretty heavy on this one; I still wasn’t sure what I had to hide from, but they had been right in the past... and it wasn’t like I was opposed to the color anyway. I loved pink)—and noticed the dark circles under my eyes had gotten deeper. Rats!

I would really need to start taking some vitamins and supplements. I had been on the move a lot lately and hadn’t had a chance to brew up some immunitea—Soren taught it to me in the first few weeks after we met.

Hmmm, maybe I could get my hands on the herbs here... or at least the seeds to grow them. I needed a few weeks on the stuff to get me back in good shape.

I headed off the bus, Vox coiled around my neck a little tighter, letting me know he was still there.

The waystation was all but empty... save for the dust! The rust-colored stuff caked on EVERYTHING, including people.

I coughed. Yuck! It tasted like manure smelled. Ick.

One of the conductors motioned me over toward the county office—they were set up to receive passengers who most likely needed work.

They were kind enough to point me toward the local sheriff’s station. The old lady at the kiosk had been super nice, and that did more to dispel the ick from the smell of the air than anything else. I wondered how she kept her hair so white in all this??

I got on their transport for the heart of Outpost 37.

It was a short hop—air travel this time, as the tracks for the transport cars weren’t laid down yet. It was nice to be airborne again. I had shipped in through the above-planet gate. Vox and I had had our breakfast on one of the large station struts within the energy shield that bubbled the place. It allowed worker crews to not have to be encased in bulky suits to make outer station repairs. The jobs got done much quicker that way—a smart move in engineering... and a great move for having a snack and a great view! You could see all of the system’s stars and the golden planet below. I loved those moments. In truth, I was a lot more comfortable on starships and space stations... I guess I liked being in space.

Once we landed, this place was a little more rural... more trees and honest dirt versus the clay, raunchy-smelling dust. It was really kind of pretty... they even had some rivers. We were in a valley—probably why it was so green... the dust just blew over it. We were far enough down in the valley to not catch much dust.

I hopped down the stairway once it extended and pulled my pack a little tighter. I felt Vox relax a little. The dust would have been misery in his scales—synthetic or not!

I made my way down the dirt street toward the sheriff’s office.

Sheriff Gus Parker POV

Samuels slammed down the news flimsy on my desk. “Look at THIS! This crap means no workers. No one is going to want to relocate to a place where the citizens go nuts and kids go missing! What the hell are they trying to do to us?!”

Samuels was the de facto mayor... good god, he was young... and excitable.

I had come out here to get away from the big-city problems that left me with a permanent tremor in my right hand... and a twitch in my eyelid.

I had been a city cop, then a detective for thirty-five years. I had retired early after a particular case... after that, I was done. And this rash of problems was nothing compared to what I’d seen and cleaned up.

It was concerning, to be sure... but it was going to get sorted out. I took a deep breath—I had just poured myself a cup of coffee too. I looked longingly at the steam that wafted from the top of the steel mug and knew it would be cold by the time I was done with Samuels... I really needed a secretary to field these intrusions! I took a sniff of the liquid and drank some. Ahhhh.

“They are doing their job, is what they are doing. Hopefully we can get some help out here. I can’t find hide nor hair of those kids or the old folks. You and I both know it’s NOT the soil. Something is wrong, and we need help.”

His face started to flush. “We NEED people who pay TAXES that pay OUR salaries!”

Chapter 4:

Sheriff Gus Parker POV

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. Samuels was a good kid, despite what he had just said, and I had to remember that. He was makin’ it hard to do, though. I looked up at him, and whatever he saw in my eyes was enough to pour cold water on his temper tantrum right quick.

He took a step back and straightened up. “I’m sorry, Gus. I got a little worked up, is all. Any news or progress?”

I sucked in a deep breath. “Nothing yet. I will send it to you once we know more. Samuels, we are gonna find these kids. My instincts tell me that they aren’t in any actual danger. I may be dead wrong, but my instincts have kept me alive this long... I’m inclined to trust them. But I understand if you don’t. Either way, we will get this sorted. So head back and let me get back to work.”

His face took on the stubborn cast of someone who really wanted an argument today. Hmmm, the kid needed to take up at a local fighting gym if that was how it was. I didn’t have the time or inclination.

Just as Samuels’ mouth opened, the bells on my front door jingled, and a young girl—maybe in her early 20s—poked her head in.

I gave Samuels a see, it’s not that bad? look.

“Is this the sheriff’s?” Nice voice, very calming and yet oddly energetic at the same time. Nice.

I smiled at her. Samuels’ mouth was hanging open like a codfish. “Yes, you’ve come to the right place. How can I help you?”

“I was sent here to inquire about work??”

I looked at Samuels. He looked at me—mouth still open. Made me want to reach up and shut it. “Great, I have an opening on some farms and in some factories... I may have an opening here soon too. What are your skills?”

She smiled. “Just general labor for me, thanks. I’d like to have a place with work and maybe a spare room, if possible?”

Smart girl. Wanted to stretch her credits as far as they’d go. Samuels’ face started to show fear, and he was silently begging me NOT to suggest what he knew I was about to.

“Well, the places with work and room and board are all going to be on the outer edges of town.”

She grinned. “That sounds perfect!”

I nodded. Must not have seen the news—good! “Alright, I will get you a list.” I pulled the farm list out from my desk drawer and set the flimsy on the table. She came over quick as a snap and scanned through them.

That broke Samuels out of his trance, and he snapped his mouth shut. “Uh, well, miss? I have a couple of openings in city hall too... if you’re interested?”

She smiled and pointed to one right in the middle of where the disappearances were heaviest, and Samuels looked like he would melt into the floor.

“I’d like this one if possible, please. I know a bit about herb growing and farming.”

“Alright, I will send over your paperwork. Please scan your fingerprint here and here.”

She nodded and did as asked, then looked at Samuels. “No, thank you, sir... I am just after some simple work. But thank you, though.”

He looked a little deflated.

I handed her her work transfer, and she bounced off to the shuttle port that would take her to the edge of town. I side-eyed Samuels. “Don’t worry—you can always go inspect that farm and talk to her again.”

He looked down at the floor sheepishly. “Was it that obvious?”

I looked at him. “Only if you had sense.”

Win’s POV

I made my way to Brenda “Benny” Hinter’s farm, and it was lovely. She kept the place running well but needed a bit of help with the new growing season. She gave me a room and told me meal times. When I inquired if I could purchase herbs from her, she told me not to worry about it as long as it was for personal use. She even tried the immunitea—and subsequently got the recipe from me. She told me after a couple of weeks that I was welcome to stay as long as I’d like. And honestly, I wished I could... heck, I might actually stay for a bit to get my bearings. Every single person on the colony was just so pleasant. They were great people.

I felt calm and at ease here. There was, of course, some spirit and supernatural activity, but nothing dark or malicious. No child snatchers, to be sure.

Benny took to Vox, and he to her... honestly, she was what I would imagine my grandmother would have been like if I had ever met her.

And so Vox and I spent the next week or so scanning EVERYTHING!

Soil was clean, water, food, pest spray, candy, metals, vehicle leavings... heck, we even checked the sewers... never again!

NOTHING was amiss. Nothing out of place—no secret hidden signals, no nothing. I even checked celestial phenomena... zilch.

The disappearances increased in frequency—a lot—as did the cases of madness.

And the only odd thing was a strange energetic signature. Vox and I finally found it one night at 3 a.m. It had started around 2 a.m. and didn’t stop until 4:30 a.m. Hmmm. We tracked it for three nights after that.

Vox discovered it was another set of brainwaves. These were unlike anything he had seen... and they were trying to connect to the colonists while they slept. Well, that would explain the cases of madness.

I decided to gather the herbs to brew myself some dreamtime tea. Soren had used it a time or two when he was alive. It was great when you needed to go past the limits of lucid dreaming. There were some things that roamed the dream planes and were quite dangerous... which meant that you needed your wits about you and full command of and access to your skills.

I went out once the signal was done to the herb sheds to get what I needed for tomorrow night. I had sent out a psychic suggestion that I was invisible... a psychic glamour, if you will. That way no questions got asked, and I could do my work in peace. Vox kept lookout on my shoulder anyway.

And it turned out to be a really good thing!

As I was getting the herb cuttings... I saw something that blew my mind.

The neighbor’s cat—their little girl had just gone missing this week, poor people—wandered over into our yard. Now mind you, I wasn’t a cat person, and I was allergic to them to boot, but I felt bad for it. It had been the little girl’s bestie.

She named it Peaches. It was an orange tabby with white feet.

The thing came over to the yard and meowed a bit at a spot near the valley wall. It kept meowing.

I looked over, and I could have sworn it was calling to something or someone.

Then I saw a large... what looked like a mushroom head. But it was as big as a sunhat. And it was glowing in the dark... a greenish aqua.

The cat kept meowing its little heart out. It sounded so sad.

Then the mushroom stood up?!

Wait, WHAT?

It was humanoid under that cap. The body was whitish and glowing... it looked female. What?! This planet didn’t have any indigenous life... at least none that was sentient!

At least none on record.

The thing glided over to the cat, which looked up at the glowy mushroom person and held out its arms.

Peaches jumped up into the thing’s embrace, and it cradled him, then proceeded to walk him into the growing opening in the valley cliff wall.

Once they were inside, the opening closed shut soundlessly.

I rubbed my eyes and then looked at Vox, who was staring at the cliff face.

“Vox?”

“Yep. That was a mushroom sentient. And it took the cat. Into the cliff side. It is continuing into the cliff face. I’ve lost signal as it is too far within the cliff matter. The cat is alive and unharmed by my scans.”

“This world doesn’t have any sentient life... right?”

“Well, apparently it does. But no, there aren’t any on record.”

We looked at each other and spoke in unison:

“Well, CRAP!”