4523
4523.270
We first awoke on 4523.197 aboard the Prosperity and have been hurtling through the stars ever since. It has been quite a transition living on a space ship, though clearly more so for Ambrose and Doolish than for myself. Ambrose still routinely inquires about whether anyone has need for a leatherworker; I don't think he has fully grasped what automation has done to traditional trades. Some part of me hopes to end up on a medieval planet just so he gets to make a leather vest again instead of getting shown up by a nanofactory.
Our journey started in the remote Saga Sector, which I have learned is the farthest sector of known human civilization from the Earth I knew, in what is now called the Terran Sector. Human civilization expanded along the Orion Spur, first through what is now the Old Frontiers Sector, then into what is now the Federation Sector, then to the Corporate Sector, then to the Phoenix Sector, and finally to the Saga Sector, where the Promethean Foundation maintains ties to a remote outpost and research facility on a world named Mersault. In fact, the longest leg of our journey to Center, where our ship awaits us, was the first, a 40.2 parsec run from Mersault to Paragon.
It was in Paragon that the politics of the galaxy began to make themselves clear. Paragon is an independent world with social, political and, primarily, commercial ties to the Phoenix Sector. At the time of our arrival, we learned that Paragon was infected by a plague and was under quarantine. Travel on and off the planet surface was heavily restricted, and we were prohibited from visiting. We learned later that the Paragonians blamed Cornwall - the next planet on our itinerary, and a Phoenix Domain member - for spreading the plague to them. Of course, the conspiratorial aspect of this is only amplified by how Cornwall just so happens to manufacture a remedy for this plague, but obviously Cornwall and the Phoenix Domain deny all allegations and blame it on an insect. Whatever the truth, it is clear that interplanetary tensions are high in the galaxy.
Cornwall was another 26 parsecs, and Lungold, an intermediate destination, was another 6.8 parsecs beyond that. Lungold is a major world in the Phoenix Domain, with a population comparable to Earth in the 20th century. My Earth. We were scheduled to meet Duke Zaxo Aquarius on Lungold, an ally of the Prometheans and one of our benefactors. Carter told us that he is one of the major funders of our operation, which isn't cheap. Our ship is going to cost tens - if not hundreds - of millions of dollars. The Duke's role in the Phoenix Domain is not entirely clear. He is likely somehow related to the Emperor and his title has something to do with commerce, but his specific duties and powers remain a little bit of a mystery to me. I honestly had no idea what to expect in our upcoming meeting.
For the first half of our trip, Ambrose, Doolish, and I kept mostly to ourselves. The crew of the Prosperity thought we were the grandchildren of the Duke and were essentially instructed to keep their distance from us. They did not initiate any conversations with us or try to include us in any of the ship's activities. Our cover story indicated we had been recently liberated from being held hostage for years. This was well and good at keeping us from exposing ourselves as the outsiders we are, but also extremely boring. Once I discovered the presence of a bar and what I can only describe as a space disco lounge, the whole notion of keeping separated went out the airlock. I was amazed to find the jukebox had a number of songs I was familiar with, so I joined in on karaoke night. I got to know a few of the crew and got to see how they "got down" in the 46th century. Let's just say that people are a lot more liberated! It was fun getting to know some of the regular people. I didn't get to know many of the officers; they were forbidden from socializing with the normals.
Beyond seeing people in the context of the bar and in my quarters, I had an opportunity to use the gym and even see what kinds of martial arts some of the crew practiced. It was interesting to see that the average skill level of the participants was pretty high. Much higher than in my time. Most people where I lived back on Earth barely even knew about martial arts, and, of those, only a tiny fraction were remotely competent. The techniques and movements they know in the 46th century are clearly a hybrid of some earlier styles. I recognized the influence of taekwondo, judo, Muay Thai, and Greco-Roman wrestling. Somewhere along the lines, bits and pieces from these styles were taken and meshed together. I can see the logic of the style evolution, though it is clear to me that a lot of the adjustments must have been made for sport competition reasons. It was a little strange to see some of the techniques used out of the context of their broader disciplinary framework, and in a lethal fight, many of the adjustments would, in my opinion, prove to be a disservice to the practitioner. But, for someone bound by the rules of a competition, I can see why certain things were dropped and others retained. Overall, I was still impressed at what average people could do. I also know I can get a fallback job in a dojo if this whole mana search thing goes sideways. (Which it inevitably will)
I have been thinking a lot about mana, actually. I don't know how long we were in The Hole, or how long we were asleep, but however long that was, it has now been another two and a half months on top of that that I've been living without mana. They say that space has no mana (I haven't felt the tiniest hint of it), and that it is rare in the galaxy. Some words out there are believed to have it, but none of the known worlds seem to. So much of my life has been devoted to magic; I feel like only half a person out here. I felt that way in The Hole as well. I hope the NEMA reactor can spark that missing part of me, and I hope beyond that that we do find mana out there, even if just to feel it again. With the exception of the Cabal, wherever they are, humanity seems to have completely lost touch with magic. We have been told that no one among the billions of people out there knows the first thing about magic, and they haven't in perhaps thousands of years. Some believe the absence of mana has led to the absence of magicians. Of course, it is impossible to test this theory without mana, but they could be right.
We made it to Lungold and to our meeting with the Duke without event. We went through a gauntlet of large doors, large rooms, servants, underlings, bureaucrats, and even a wardrobe change before finally being ushered into the Duke's meeting chamber. It was a high-ceilinged room with huge glass panes overlooking some vista on Lungold. We met for hours and learned a little of the Duke, the Phoenix Domain, the Cabal, and the nature of all things. The highlight was that, somehow, human civilization had preserved the knowledge of how to make Champagne. I don't know if I'm allowed to call it Champagne if it's made on Lungold, but it tasted just like the stuff from France. This, despite a millennium-long dark age that set in after Earth was destroyed in the 25th century, after evidently colliding with a black hole. I think there are some unanswered questions there. I don't see a black hole just sneaking up on Earth and colliding with it out of nowhere, but I do see the Cabal doing something completely outrageous like that.
The subject of the Cabal did come up in our meeting with the Duke. We learned that the Phoenix Domain had likely encountered the Cabal, when one of its fleets was lost in a battle with an unknown enemy at the edge of its territory. The aftermath of that conflict is still unknown, as are the specifics of the conflict. The Duke only knew that the Phoenix Domain encountered a superior force, lost, and then... nothing, really. That's all he knew. If the Emperor knew more, he certainly hadn't told Zaxo about it. Just as with the disappearance of Earth, it was clear to me that this matter was also going to require some further investigation.
We concluded our meeting with Zaxo and returned to the Prosperity. The last thing he did was give us Carter, who was apparently his property, as slavery is allowed in the Phoenix Domain. I find the notion of owning someone more than a little off-putting, and I am pleased to learn that Ambrose and Doolish feel the same way, so we have offered Carter her freedom, if she wants it. It is my hope the rest of the journey goes without incident. There are some interesting worlds on our itinerary, but I want to keep as low a profile as possible, at least until we have the first clue of what we're doing. The Phoenix Domain and the Corporate Sector seem a little hostile, and the more exposure we get, the more likely it is that some word of our existence reaches the Cabal. That's something we cannot afford right now. We're playing in a game where they hold all the cards.
4523.303
We stopped briefly at Beehive today and took on some new passengers, a little more than 30 days after we departed Lungold. Some of the passengers seemed interesting in that they were somewhat different than anyone else on the ship. A pair of men dressed in odd, religious-looking raiment were among the new passengers, and another guy who looked like a businessman also came aboard. Some others did as well, mostly nondescript. I asked around and learned that the religious-looking people are part of a sect called The Psi-Minders. A little research indicated they were an organization devoted somehow to mental powers, the types of things I have come to understand as psionics. I am curious what that means in this day and age, but I'm a little hesitant to go meet potential mind readers; that isn't good in the context of trying to keep a low profile.
I did, however, go speak to the businessman. He was standoffish, rude, and seemed paranoid. After he got upset I was making smalltalk with him, he kind of departed in a huff, looking over his shoulder nervously as he went. I don't know what his problem is, exactly, but it's clear he's not on this ship to make friends. I doubt I will see him at karaoke night.
4523.311
Things have gotten a little strange on the Prosperity ever since our stop at Beehive. First of all, lots of people started coming down with what everyone was describing as "space flu." Even Doolish succumbed to this; in fact, he ws one of the first people to take ill. But it started happening to a lot of people. Lots of the crew was missing shifts and stayed in their rooms. In addition to this, I noticed several instances of increased aggression among crew members in the lounge. In a few cases fights even broke out, with people taking swings at each other. I knew from having seen them in and around the lounge before that most of these people were friends, or at least acquaintances, and it struck me as very strange that they would be fighting each other. A security officer and I even spoke briefly about that when he came to investigate one of the incidents.
As our trip continued, there was more erratic behavior on the part of the crew, and Doolish seemed to be getting sicker. More fights broke out, and the number of crew members who were out sick rose. The strange man I saw made a few appearances at the lounge, eyeing me suspiciously when he did, and then stopped showing up altogether. When I saw the same security guard as before after he had to break up yet another scuffle in the lounge, I mentioned the strange man to him. He told me I should let the ship's medical officer know. Having observed him and some other security officers in action twice, I noticed they had a few shortcomings in their approach to breaking up a potentially violet situation. I let him know I was a martial arts instructor and told him he should stop by the gym in the crew quarters in the afternoon to get in a workout. Later that day, Ambrose and I went to speak to the doctor the security guard had mentioned to me. I found the doctor to be kind of dismissive, especially towards me, but he at least heard Ambrose out and fielded a question or two before returning to work. He was quite busy, as there were a lot of people with space flu, not to mention entire other groups of crew members who had gotten into scuffles. The waiting room had a few guys with bruises and scrapes waiting for treatment.
The gym became a pretty popular spot over the next few days. Several people from the security department stopped by, most to study martial arts, and a few to learn baton skills from Ambrose. It was nice to be able to get some sparring in. I feel myself getting rusty if I don't get an opportunity for that from time to time. The security personnel were quite disciplined and open to learning, which made them great students. They already had pretty good rudimentary skills, especially with regard to holds and locks, but their stances and mobility needed work. I focused mainly on teaching them how to defend themselves from attackers throwing punches and kicks. It seemed they had almost no exposure to an opponent trying to kick them. The days were going by quickly and this lengthy space voyage was starting to get fun, so much so that I had all but forgotten about the oddball businessman who had disappeared. But, I learned today that he had been found dead in his quarters, apparently from starvation and dehydration. In other words, he had stayed in his quarters until he starved to death, which was very strange indeed. He evidently was found in bed, the covers pulled up to his face, cowering with his briefcase under the covers.
It was at this point that I was sure this wasn't just a case of space flu. Something was going on, and it struck me as a little coincidental that there were members of a psionic sect onboard and that we had recently departed from a planet known for psychoactive crystals. I got what information I could about the sect members. It turned out they were called Psi-Minders, and were part of some order of mystics not affiliated with any major governments. It seemed like they were peaceful people. I decided they probably weren't the culprits, but that maybe they could help. I realized it would be a big risk exposing myself to potential mind readers, but it seemed worth the risk in this case.
I managed to talk my friend in security into getting me into the private area of the ship where the Psi-Minders were quartered. I went after dinner, when he was doing a routine security sweep. He let me shadow along behind him so that it wouldn't appear he had meant to let me in. I arrived at the Psi-Minders' door and gave it a knock. The man who answered seemed to be immediately - how do I put this without seeming full of myself - awestruck. I knew he clearly knew something about me. He either could peer into my mind or see my aura or something. He ushered me quickly in and went to get his elder, the other one who was there. They were named Ramon and Angus. I learned a little about their order and what they were doing out here, and I also learned that they knew a lot about me just from a casual inspection of my psychic aura.
They were traveling the sectors in search of young talent to shelter and train on their home world, some place called Regalia at the edge of Federation space. The Psi-Minders were an ancient order of mystics, and it sounded from some of their descriptions that they had a history with magic and martial arts as well as psionics, though any magic they had known died out ages ago. I think we hit it off very well; they were aware I was a mage. They also told me I was from a different universe. I assume they knew a few other things about me, but they did assure me they did not go around reading minds without permission, so my history with The Cabal was safe from them. I could tell that they felt they had some sort of duty to the galaxy and humankind regarding psionics. They saw untrained, unschooled psionics as a danger to themselves. They described adolescence for a psionic like adolescence for anyone else, but with the added burden and potential for harm to oneself and others that comes with psionic powers. They also didn't particularly care for the way the Phoenix Domain or Federation seemed to use psionics for their own ends compared to how they helped psionics self-actualize. Something like that. We had New Age types aplenty back in California, and these guys weren't all that different. Some New Agers had powers; most didn't. These guys did.
After an hour or two of talking and getting to know each other, I had convinced them to help with the potential psychic problem on the ship. They heard the story of the death of Tim Wethers, and agreed something not altogether mundane could be afoot. Brother Angus, as he referred to himself, said he would speak with the doctor and whatever other ship personnel he could regarding the situation. He was emphatic that he could be persuasive if needed. That was good enough for me. I agreed to meet back the following evening.
4523.312
On our second meeting, I brought Ambrose along. I was just hoping that nothing violent would happen and that Ambrose wouldn't scare them right off the ship. It turns out they were fascinated with him as well. They had not seen a mage, ever. They had heard of mages in ages past, but then they saw not only one, but two at the same time. What's more, they could tell Ambrose was a fictional character! That's not how they put it exactly, but it's what everyone has known all along. He was from some world that an author (who himself may have been a powerful mage) willed into existence. That's what they said, anyway. Regarding the Time Wethers incident, they confirmed that it likely was a psionic attack. They believed Wethers had been exposed to a psychic assault from an adjacent room. They suspected it is also what was causing everyone else's sickness, since the attacker had to broadcast a wide field of negative vibes. While he was targeting Wethers, he was exposing innocent bystanders to a less volatile version of his brain-draining assault. They told us the sickness would likely disappear soon, since the psychic's victim had presumably been eliminated and his goals accomplished. They also said they wouldn't be able to pinpoint who the psychic was, since someone like that could hide his mind from them. It seemed like a dead end. No doubt, some psionic had boarded on Beehive or perhaps had been aboard, laying in wait. We had no leads and no reliable way to track such a person down; what's more, we were supposed to be keeping a low profile, and it was bad enough that we had just exposed ourselves to two psychics already.
4523.350
I've occupied the last few weeks with a bunch of sessions at the gym with members of the crew. They have even started giving me donations, which is a nice gesture. They are not allowed to engage in commerce with passengers, and the ship can't officially offer me payment, but apparently leaving donations for me at the gym is allowed. We've had a great crew of regulars coming in for workouts, and I think they've made some real progress learning the basics of evasive and defensive maneuvers. They will be far more capable of stepping out of the arc of a punch now, or even batting away an improvised weapon or a kick. None of them seem like particularly violent types. It is interesting how the security aboard the ship isn't full of the macho types you would run into in wuguans back on Earth.
We finally made it to our next port of call, a planet in the Corporate Sector known as Xin Wu. My guess is this means "New Wu," likely in reference to the ancient Wu state from the Spring and Autumn period. Though, I guess there were other Wu states. I'm not the most knowledgeable Chinese historian. I spent most of my life in California, after all. Anyway, a big entourage of obviously wealthy business types got on. They looked Asian, though not exactly Chinese. I don't know, they sort of looked like a big mix of Asian people. Despite what people say, we CAN tell each other apart (usually). Some looked a little Japanese, some looked maybe more Vietnamese. I would say some looked Mongolian but, honestly, I've never met a Mongolian so what do I know. I could tell from all the bowing and officiousness and the obvious servile nature of some of these people, though, that at least one person who just boarded was a Big Deal. I made up my mind to try to be low key.
4523.376
My plan to be low key didn't work out very well. After a few drinking sessions and getting to know a few people from Xin Wu, I realized they considered me a Special, sort of like the Psi-Minders did. They realized I was fully Chinese, apparently a rarity and a novelty on Xin Wu. I got the bright idea of doing some calligraphy for their leader, some high-ranking official from the Xin Wu corporation (apparently the whole planet is all part of the same giant corporation) named Ying Hue-Xiu. It turned out alright, and she liked the calligraphy and said I could look her up in the future if I needed a favor, but getting to that point involved navigating a morass of social protocol that I was sure wouldn't still exist. It was as though someone merged and amplified Korean yangban, Japanese samurai businessmen, and the Imperial court of the Ming dynasty into one horrifyingly stilted entity. There was also a great deal of paranoia about me, with the head of security knowing that I wasn't who I said I was, but also that I wasn't a threat, except that he recognized I had kung-fu training unlike anything he had ever seen. I survived the minefield, and got to have an interesting take on chow mein in the process. [for the record, not quite as good].
We are slated to hit Center tomorrow, our final destination on the Prosperity. We've already started getting things together for our maiden voyage on our own ship, the Hyperion (I was outvoted by white people, alas). We've arranged to provide the Psi-Minders passage back to their home world at a discount fare. In exchange they are teaching us some of the basics of their order's mental techniques, and we all agree that an amicable relationship with the Psi-Minders is a good idea. What's more, Doolish has talked one of the officers from Prosperity into joining us. I was relieved, because the idea of a four-person crew sounded inauspicious. I didn't want to tell Carter to get lost, so it seemed better to try to pick up a new person. It turns out she seems hyper competent at operating a spaceship anyway, something the rest of us aren't that familiar with. Like, not at all familiar with.