Insiders

Copyright © 2023 by Shannon Knight

ISBN: 979-8-9876393-2-0 (ebook)

ISBN: 979-8-9876393-3-7 (paperback)

ISBN: 979-8-9876393-7-5 (hardcover)

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law, such as brief quotations.

This is a work of fiction. The story is a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Winter Moon Press, 2023

First print edition in the United States

Cover illustration © Isabeau Backhaus, www.isabeaubackhausillustration.de

Author's Note

I wrote Insiders prior to the COVID-19 pandemic. While Insiders contains an intergalactic plague, the story is neither inspired by nor commentary on the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic.

Insiders is dedicated to the people who have died or become disabled due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Contents

1.Hoshi Inside

2.Sachi Inside

3.Sachi Inside

4.Liam Flannigan

5.Dr. Mai Vu

6.Sachi Inside

7.Doyle Gridliner

8.Imperatrix Persephone XII

9.Captain Karasi Kwei

10.Celeste 449

11.Doyle Gridliner

12.Sachi Inside

13.Doyle Gridliner

14.Liam Flannigan

15.Doyle Gridliner

16.Captain Karasi Kwei

17.Captain Karasi Kwei

18.Liam Flannigan

19.Captain Karasi Kwei

20.Sachi Inside

21.Captain Karasi Kwei

22.Captain Karasi Kwei

23.Liam Flannigan

24.Sachi Inside

25.Celeste 449

26.Sachi Inside

27.Liam Flannigan

28.Captain Karasi Kwei

29.Shang Wei Richards

30.Liam Flannigan

31.Shang Wei Richards

32.Imperatrix Persephone XII

33.Captain Karasi Kwei

34.Sachi Inside

35.Shang Wei Richards

36.Liam Flannigan

37.Sachi Inside

38.Esme Torres

39.Captain Karasi Kwei

40.Shang Wei Richards

41.Esme Torres

42.Celeste 449

43.Captain Karasi Kwei

44.Zhing Wei Vanderwit

45.Sachi Inside

46.Shang Wei Richards

47.Zhing Wei Vanderwit

48.Virtue 237

49.Esme Torres

50.Celeste 449

51.Virtue 237

52.Doyle Gridliner

53.Captain Karasi Kwei

54.Doyle Gridliner

55.Shang Wei Chen

56.Liam Flannigan

57.Captain Karasi Kwei

58.Esme Torres

59.Doyle Gridliner

60.Sachi Inside

61.Shang Wei Chen

62.Captain Karasi Kwei

63.Doyle Gridliner

64.Celeste 449

65.Captain Karasi Kwei

66.Sachi Inside

67.Doyle Gridliner

68.Proregina Izanami VI

69.Celeste 449

70.Captain Karasi Kwei

71.Celeste 449

72.Sachi Inside

73.Shang Jiang Xu

74.Sachi Inside

75.Proregina Izanami VI

76.Captain Karasi Kwei

77.Sachi Inside

78.Esme Torres

79.Celeste 449

80.Doyle Gridliner

81.Captain Karasi Kwei

82.Sachi Inside

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Also By Shannon Knight

Grave Cold

Wish Givers

1

Hoshi Inside

Y ou’re fine. Hoshi leaned against the wall, blinking as the stationary corridor swung around him. Just fine. The small body he was carrying slid down his back, thumping to the floor. His eyes focused on the circular grate on the wall near his feet. Size 2B. That was the one.

He sighed, letting his knees bend so that he slid down beside the crumpled form of his little sister. Good job. He patted her white hair. You just need rest. He coughed, curving in over his tool belt. When his vision cleared, he selected a 2B magnetic driver and began removing screws from the grate.

The next time he opened his eyes, the grating was leaning against the wall and the collected screws glittered in a small pile next to it. Hoshi rubbed his eyes, wondering how long he had been unconscious. If this area weren’t so eerily empty, they would already be in trouble.

What’re we doing outside? Sachi’s voice sounded like it was coming through the grinder. Her eyes were barely opened, with droplets resting on her white lashes.

Hoshi forced back his own tears. Of course she was alive. He just hadn’t expected her to talk again. That was all.

Going in now, he said. No need to walk. I got this.

Sachi choked out a laugh. They both knew she was in no shape to walk. But the corridor absorbed the sound, spooking both of them.

Head first. Hoshi gripped Sachi’s shoulders and drug her towards the opening. No way would he ever fit in a 2B, but it was no problem for Sachi. You got three water bags on your belt. Don’t be an idiot and forget.

She didn’t respond, which was strange. Her eyes were closed, so she’d probably drifted off again. This could be the last time he saw her. Likely would be. Despite the purpling beneath her eyes, her face looked peaceful and collected. It kind of made him want to laugh. He fingered the one strand of long hair by her right ear. The rest she kept Insider short, but she called this her vanity. Hoshi tucked it into her jacket so it wouldn’t catch on anything, snapping the collar shut again. He leaned down, dropping a kiss on her head.

You got this, he said. Tough as titanium. He shifted to lift her again, but was distracted by the red in her hair. It was too red in the too-bright, outside light. He wiped it, trying to get it off, but only smearing it into her hair. Shit. He rubbed his mouth against his shoulder, streaking his jacket with blood.

Hoshi shook his head, sweat flinging against the white wall. Vertigo slowed him down for another three breaths. Then he lifted Sachi and slid her head and shoulders into the pipe. He grabbed her waist and hauled her into the tube till his elbows hit metal. He rested his head against the wall, counting breaths till he was caught by the fear that he had lost more time. Sachi’s belt, worn and familiar, hung with tools around her hips. Hoshi unclipped the remaining water bag from his own belt. He was so thirsty. He stared at the crumpled silver bag and wondered if it were remotely possible that Sachi had a different strain of virus than he did.

No way, he said, attaching his partially used bag to the end of the bag chain on Sachi’s belt.

Hoshi wrapped his hands around Sachi’s knees and shoved her further inside. The last push would be the easiest. He gripped the soles of her boots and crammed her in till the metal scraped against his upper arms and he was gasping and wheezing with his forehead once again resting on the white wall.

Have you shrunk? Or are you just stupid? Sachi’s voice sounded more normal coming from inside.

Hoshi grinned, picking up his magnetic driver and replacing the grating. He couldn’t slow down now, or someone might find her.

If we spread out, our chances are better, Hoshi said, but that wasn’t his real reason.

He coughed, then wiped the red spittle from the wall. If someone used a blood tracker, then Hoshi had just left a giant X-marks-the-spot on his sister’s pipe. But outsiders had no reason to search for Insiders here. Not in the restricted zone, especially not after all the welding they’d done elsewhere.

Hoshi! Hoshi!

Hoshi blinked. He was staring up at the silver ceiling. The white walls reminded him that he was outside. Hoshi hacked blood into his shoulder, then rolled onto his hands and knees.

Shut up, Sach. You’re hiding, he said.

Hurry up, stupid! Sachi said, but she sounded relieved.

Hoshi wondered how long he had been out that time. He wouldn’t have to crawl far before he would be back inside. After that, he’d aim to move as far from the restricted area as he could manage. Then no one would know where he had hid Sachi. He had to hold tight onto that thought till he’d accomplished it. Hoshi tapped the code for departure on Sachi’s grate before heading back towards the inside.

Sachi could make it. No one would look for an Insider in the restricted section. On top of that, Sachi wouldn’t be trapped in the pipes with a bunch of infected corpses. She would be scared by herself, but she would have a shot at survival. Hoshi hated to think of her being afraid. He’d always told her that he’d protect her, and he’d always done his best. Worst case, he’d just selected her crypt. But he wouldn’t think of that. Where there was hope, there was opportunity. He would go rest, and maybe he could recover. Meanwhile, his sister might find water, food, even medicine. And Sachi would definitely not wake up next to his corpse.

2

Sachi Inside

Sachi woke feeling as if she’d swallowed scrap metal. Her fingers stretched out, touching the pipe on either side of her. 2B. It felt like someone had increased the gravity; she was heavy, achy, and having trouble remembering. Was she on a supply run? She tapped an interrogative on the metal. Her breath scraped in and out in the silence.

Hoshi? She stared into the dark, listening. She didn’t even hear the echo of distant movement, although a light thrum of a fan vibrated the pipe.

Why had she thought Hoshi was there? He wouldn’t even fit in a 2B.

The shade of darkness told her she wasn’t far from a grate. The pipe stunk of urine, and her breeches, clammy and cool, clung to her skin. What was wrong with her? Had she really peed her pants?

Sachi couldn’t breathe there. She tucked her chin, lifted a foot to the overhead surface so that her weight shifted to her back sliding pad, and pushed herself further down the pipe, away from the worst of the stink.

They’ve cut access to the 51 and 52 grinders. Quarantine they’re calling it.

They can’t shut off the grinders.

They’re not off. The pipes are just blocked. Akimoto-san says they’ve been welded.

I’ll check it out, Sachi said. Her cracked voice disrupted the memory. She blinked in the darkness, realizing no one was there.

She wasn’t checking the grinders. That had been days ago—maybe more than that. They hadn’t just cut access to the grinders, either. Some of the cyclers were shut down, so primary water sources didn’t function, and they had to get their water from further out. Sachi had acted as a runner, bringing water for the old timers. But she wasn’t doing that now.

Levels 49 to 53 have been shut down.

It’s insane to expect that many people to haul their refuse to other levels. The grinders on 48 and 54 weren’t designed to sustain that much use.

I’m not talking about grinders. They sealed off entire floors.

What the fuck? They can’t displace that many people.

They didn’t displace them, vacuum.

Sachi opened her eyes. Swallowing made her feel like she was going to choke. Instead she coughed, and the pain in her chest was brutal. The sound echoed through the pipes.

Epidemic, she croaked. That was what she was forgetting. If she waited for the fever to pass, she would die. Not gonna happen.

Tears slid down the sides of her face. It wouldn’t be as scary if her brother were with her. Sachi liked solo missions because they meant people thought she was old enough to contribute on her own, but not in a situation like this. She felt so sick, and she was afraid. Still, Hoshi knew what to do. He must have a plan. He’d put her somewhere he thought was safe. She would trust in Hoshi.

Sachi slid her body down the pipe, around a turn, and on until she was too dizzy to continue. She reached for the water bags clipped to her belt, but they were already empty. A few more tears leaked out. She was so thirsty. She wished Hoshi could take care of her so that she could rest.

A strange picture formed in her mind of water falling in fat drops from above. The steady sound of impact made a shhhh, and the back splatter misted up in a white haze. Her face turned towards the water, opening up to absorb it.

Sachi blinked in the darkness. What was that? A hallucination? What would cause water to drop from above? A broken pipe? Had she ever seen such a thing? Her face opening was pretty creepy, too.

It was so hard to move, but Sachi lifted a foot and pushed off the pipe. She really needed water. At the next intersection, she turned her head, taking a long stare down each option. They were equally dark, and she didn’t recognize these pipes at all. Hoshi had put her somewhere really strange. Then the darkness rippled and shimmered like a water tank. She blinked a few times. She could see the water whether her eyes were open or closed.

She didn’t care if she was hallucinating. She just wanted a drink.

Sachi pushed forward, her progress punctuated by blackouts. Awake, she could see the image of water dripping overlaid on her regular vision. Sometimes the images grew even more extraordinary. She saw flat, organic surfaces with startling patterns in glossy green. They wavered beneath the falling water, gulping it up with their permeable skins.

She had to reach that water. Sachi pushed all the pain and difficulty as far from her surface thoughts as she could and focused on that single goal.

When her fingers hit metal, Sachi fumbled with her magnetic driver. She didn’t remember removing the grate. Her memory was full of blanks. Where the pipe had ended was up high because she was able to touch the outside ceiling but not the floor. She would need to use her magnets to descend.

Instead, she fell.

Sachi woke vomiting blood. A knife of pain stabbed through her lower leg. Her hands reached out for the pipe, but grasped only air. Despite the pain in her throat, constant vertigo, vomiting blood, and possibility of a broken leg, being outside scared her the most. Outside wasn’t safe.

Star-clustered space spread across her vision. The picture was just like the ones of water, but this one came with a buoyant feeling of joy.

That was much more outside than she had been thinking.

Superimposed over outer space, a brown, curled wisp of dry matter appeared. Sachi had never seen anything like it. The organic matter rippled and filled out, plumping, straightening, and greening into one of those glossy, stalked organisms that had previously been shown under the falling water. It fluttered lightly as if it were in the path of a fan.

Sachi shivered. She had been roasting before, so the sudden cold was startling. She crawled, shivering continuously and coughing from deep in her lungs. Her left knee couldn’t take the pressure, so she let that leg drag behind her, her knee and shin pads working as sliders. Sachi reached the location below the water and collapsed.

It occurred to her that she was dying.

Her eyes were closed, but a flying vision of space reappeared. The stars were different this time, with a nebula off in the distance. The wilted, dead thing sprouted in the darkness, transforming into shiny green. The metal beneath her fingers vibrated in the tapped code of a question. Sachi opened her eyes. She saw herself, flush with health, dressed in her everyday gear, floating impossibly in space. The Sachi in the picture wore a smirky expression a lot like Hoshi’s right after he told a joke. The metal vibrated once more in the tapped question. She was feverish, hallucinating, possibly dying. The question didn’t really make sense, yet Sachi felt that it was asking her if she wanted that vision. If she wanted to live.

Hoshi wasn’t there. No one was there except herself. Sachi’s hand spread out against the metal. She tapped affirmative. She tapped help.

She wanted to live.

Something landed on her back.

3

Sachi Inside

Sachi opened her mouth to scream, but vomited blood instead. Something like a blanket wrapped up over her head and face, snug as a breathing slap mask. In the complete dark, she saw the tiniest curl of white with two little green wings folded back. It was another vision of some sort, a hallucination. Soft, loose, black fibers, like coffee grounds, tucked the green into a warm bed. Above it, a layer of cold white, swirling and violent, accrued, but the green rested beneath undisturbed. She had never seen anything like it, but sleep sounded good. Really good. A tap on her shoulder signaled agreement. Another tap indicated speed. She saw herself flying in space. She saw herself striding down the white corridors of outside. Sachi’s breath hitched, and the image of the protected organism reappeared, offering comfort.

Warmth spread down from her head. Something soft slid over her neck and chest. Sachi was just losing consciousness when pain streaked through her left leg. She halted her scream, remembering that she was outside. Warmth was coating her leg, pushing her limb straight and forcing the bone in place. The activity stopped, leaving Sachi coughing, blood strong on her tongue. She felt a tap on her knee. Departure.

Sachi skittered backwards till a wall was solidly behind her. Her breathing strained her throat, but the rapid movement had caused no pain in her leg. She touched her face and felt something thin with sparse hairs coated her skin. The room was slowly spinning. An image of yet another array of stars appeared across the room. The code for departure tapped on her cheek. Sachi swallowed dryly, her throat feeling cracked, and rose to her feet. Her leg worked.

Sachi stepped forward, her hand coming down on the edge of a water basin. The water had been here! She started to drink, but between the dizziness and temperature fluctuations of her body, she no longer wanted water after all.

An image of numbers in sequence flashed so rapidly through her fevered mind that recollection was impossible. Yet her fingers were already finishing the combination on a console she couldn’t even see. An airlock released.

She was outside. She had opened a door.

The triple tap of departure hit her knee. Sachi walked in the direction indicated, but she stumbled as her new double-vision showed herself striding like an outsider down the center of the passageway.

I can’t walk here. Her voice filtered through her mouth covering. I’m an Insider.

An interrogative tapped against her cheek.

Sachi tugged back the sleeve at her wrist, revealing the bold kanji for Inside inked on her skin. She felt the soft, warm slide of coating down her arm, so there was no surprise when a grey-green membrane covered the tattoo. The subsequent tap pressed directly against the veins of her inner wrist: departure followed by question.

That’s not my only tell. Sachi pictured her sliding pads, her tool belt, her small stature, her short hair, her muscled arms, her mincing steps.

The creature—it was communicating with her, wasn’t it?—stretched and reformed, pulling out of her clothes to cover her gear. Its movements were fluid and rapid. Sachi looked down at an alien uniform of veined green. Her scuffed boots, their distinct tread designed for shoving off pipe from awkward angles, were the only visible sign of her Insider status. The green lumped over her pockets and tools. Her hair shifted as a hood of stretched membrane covered her head.

Sachi began down the corridor. Light pressure on her legs invited her to take wider steps. She experimented, disliking the stretch on her muscles. The picture of her striding down the corridor appeared again, and Sachi mimicked it to the best of her febrile ability. Fatigue weighed heavily on her, and her muscles felt weak to the point of injury. She hovered on the edge of collapse, falling forward into each step.

The strain lifted.

Sachi touched her opposite sleeve, her finger clicking against a carapace. The membrane had hardened, taking weight. She let her head and shoulders fall forward, resting against the hard suit. Only her legs had to keep the motion going.

Sachi regained consciousness and began to stretch out her hands to feel the pipe. She hit a barrier. In the too-bright light, Sachi stood amidst a crowd of outsiders. She felt confused and sick. The code for departure was repeatedly tapped against her feet. The people around her were loud and angry. But none of it was aimed at her. Otherwise, she saw the crumpling organism, which she interpreted as her companion’s gentle reminder that she was about to give up the ghost.

Sachi had no idea where they were. Outside, obviously, but she’d never seen this area of the station before. Heeding the desperate signal at her feet, she began to walk.

. . . shut down the entire sector . . .

. . . reverse Big Bang. . .

. . . quarantine not holding . . .

They weren’t in corridors anymore. They were in a bay with walking tracks and everything. Sachi had never been in such an open space. Her heart ratcheted as she stepped on a conveyer and let it carry her forward. The flashing lights and loud voices made her head pound. She closed her eyes.

A new signal for departure pulled her back to her senses. Sachi stepped off the track, almost losing her balance, but the hard shell of her new companion kept her upright. She puked a small amount of blood. Her companion must have absorbed it because the sickness disappeared from her mouth.

Sound alternated with silence in a steady whomp, whomp. Vision, too, blurred and tunneled. It was easier to see the starscape acting as her compass than the hectic scene before her. She could feel the organism down her throat and suspected that was the only reason she could still breathe. Keeping each foot moving as she struggled for balance and breath was taking all of her concentration.

Sachi’s forehead cracked against a wall. She felt confused. Why had she run into a wall? The wall was gray rather than white. White meant outside. You couldn’t rest with white. Her exoskeleton seemed to approve of this assessment because the vision of space was no longer present. Instead, she saw that little white curl with the small green wings meant to comfort her. It was resting. Her companion seemed to be offering permission. She slumped against the gray surface.

The last thing she noticed was the feel of the membrane shifting against her.

4

Liam Flannigan

A t my current level of pissed off you would think nothing could make it worse, but, as it so happens, there is one thing, Captain Karasi Kwei said.

Liam looked up from his reader. The captain sat with her brow furrowed, her arms crossed, and her jaw sliding back and forth as she ground her teeth. Even if he hadn’t been new to the ship, Liam wouldn’t have ventured a comment in this atmosphere.

Doyle, balanced precariously on the back legs of a battered chair, released the straw from his mouth. A liquid diet?

I can spend years on a subcutaneous diet. The captain stood and slammed one fist into the red intercom button by the airlock. The button reminded Liam of the tech back home, old and beat up, but still managing to get the job done.

I want to know why my ship is going so slow, she demanded.

Liam wasn’t aware of a speed difference. He supposed six months wasn’t enough time to acclimate to a particular ship enough to distinguish speed while sitting in the lab. But maybe this was just another sign of him having grown up planet-side.

The math is right. Celeste’s voice came through the speakers on the low ceiling. But the ship’s self-correcting, so we’re losing speed.

Which meant Celeste already knew there was a problem and had been looking into it. Liam watched the curve of Captain Kwei’s back as she hunched predatorily over the comm button.

"Jacks, the captain began, biting off the word, does not correct when there’s not a mistake."

Maybe Celeste forgot to figure in our complete lack of cargo, Doyle offered.

Could you not be a vacuum? Esme’s voice came over the intercom.

Maybe Celeste’s math mistakenly included the weight of the cold, hard cash that should have replaced that cargo, Doyle added.

I don’t think anyone here has forgotten that Kerberos Station confiscated our perishable cargo in their so-called quarantine, the captain snapped.

Doyle held up both hands in mock surrender, but the dead look in his eyes cancelled the lightheartedness. Liam wanted to argue that there was nothing so-called about that quarantine, but he didn’t want the captain’s ire aimed at him. Still, how could she say that when she’d agreed to leave the station because of his information?

You can stop maligning my wife, Esme said. I’ve found the problem. Captain, you need to see this.

Captain Kwei was already in the corridor. Liam’s and Doyle’s eyes met. Liam wondered what could possibly be shown better than told. It didn’t bode well for the mechanicals. Liam’s hand slid down to the duct tape at his side, but it didn’t offer much comfort.

Doyle stood, ducking his head so it wouldn’t hit the ceiling. Despite the inconvenience of his height, Liam couldn’t help but envy Doyle’s size. They followed the captain out of the lounge and up the ladder to the bridge.

A small hauler like Jacks, absurdly named after an archaic children’s game, was not designed to accommodate five people on the bridge. Esme sat in the left seat, while the captain took the right. Celeste was perched on the electronics, leaning over Esme’s shoulder. Doyle had wedged himself behind the captain, leaving Liam with the only remaining space—standing on the top rung of the ladder. The large display was currently working as a window, showing nothing but black. Above it was a spread of genuine windows, revealing the same. The truth of the great emptiness was the most chilling view space could offer. It made Liam wonder how foolish he had been to leave that rock he called home.

Here. Esme tapped in the code, switching the front display to show views of the ship’s exterior. Before Liam could take them in, she’d switched again, blowing up the side view of the ship that included the flaking painting of a pair of metal jacks, elements of the ship’s namesake. The image was grainy and gray-scaled, but there was definitely something there that shouldn’t be.

What the fuck? Doyle said.

Esme enhanced the image, removing the pixelation.

Why is there a barnacle on my ship? The captain’s voice held a deep space chill.

It certainly looked like a barnacle.

Cut the engines, Esme, the captain said. Doyle and Liam, suit up. You’re scraping that barnacle off my hull.

Why me? Doyle asked.

Because you pissed me off. And Liam hasn’t earned his keep.

Liam blinked out of his reverie. I tipped you off about the Hibravian virus. He might be fresh out of school without enough pay credits to have officially graduated, but he had pulled through with his duties every time. They didn’t have that under control. If we hadn’t left when we did, we could all be dead. He didn’t like how weak his words sounded without stats backing them up, but he’d made the right call. The Hibravian wasn’t something to play with.

You keep your ears on the newsreels, Captain Kwei said. If you hear our bay died out, then I’ll thank you. Till then, there’s an unknown substance on my ship, and you’re the generalist. The captain’s eyes were doing that shiny glowing thing that made Liam suspect she could shoot lasers from her orbs. He told himself it was just the contrast between the whites of her eyes and the deep, dark brown of her skin.

Liam swallowed. Yes, captain.

The suits were kept by the outer airlock, but Liam swung by his lab first to grab a crowbar and his