Star 9347: Red Fish
Standard Year 3499
The small spacecraft quaked as it entered the atmosphere of the dwarf planet. Below, the great mining citadels were pinpricks of light on the darkened planet. Liatrees leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes as the pilot angled the ship towards the largest cluster of lights.
This would be his first time on Fish. From what he'd learned in the hours before his voyage, Fish was a free planet. However, it existed in the no-man's-land between the Federation and the Blood Monarchy, meaning both had on-world forces. The packet he'd been given described the political atmosphere as tense at best.
Liatrees flinched as something struck the side of the craft. From a small window he could see they were about to enter a large storm front. Blue cabin lights turned on automatically as clouds blanketed the window, blocking the light.
Five hours prior, in the early hours of the morning, the Federation General had called Liatrees to his office. He'd begun speaking before Liatrees even sat down. Apparently, 38 hours ago, Red Fish had gone dark before it began to experience low-level EMP surges.
"The communication ended after five minutes," the General had said. "When we contacted the ruling faction, they claimed a flash flood wiped out their communications tower. They did not mention a signal." Liatrees sighed and pressed back into his seat. The General had looked tired.
The General had put a hand to his brow, "Li, you're the third officer we've sent to Fish. And I haven't heard from the other two since they left. I like you, you've served with my son. Brought him back alive and only missing a couple fingers."
He paused, "Get in and get out. The medal's not worth it." Liatrees hadn't laughed at the time, but he did now.
"Get in, get out," he snapped his fingers. "Easy."
The craft hit turbulence, and Liatrees' hands shot to the armrests. The side panels of the ship rattled violently. From the cockpit, a low-altitude alarm began to sound. Outside, he could see the blinking lights of the landing strips approach rapidly. Seconds later, the pilot pulled up harshly, and they touched down with a jolt.
Liatrees let out a breath and forced himself to release the armrest. He undid his harness and stood to get his bag.
It was raining when Liatrees stepped from the craft. The air was muggy and steam rose from the spots where rain hit the ground. The landing field was ill-lit but the city proper could be seen rising in the distance. Liatrees stayed under the ship's overhang as he approached the pilot who was scrutinizing the outside of his spacecraft, hammer in hand.
The pilot glanced up at his approach and gestured with his hammer to a small platform half a kilo away, "Trains run e'ry hour o' so, best try ta stay dry."
Liatrees nodded, "Thank you. Why is the airfield so far from the city?"
The pilot smiled widely, exposing a mouth lacking numerous teeth, "'Cause o'te terrists. After a week of planes crashing inte te mines Lor' Draken moved t'airfield. Nowadays any ship near enough gets blown outte te sky."
The pilot cackled and began to hammer part of the hull back into shape with heavy strikes. Liatrees swallowed and suddenly felt very grateful to have two feet on solid ground.
Liatrees slung his bag over his shoulder and moved out into the rain. Each drop burned as it hit his exposed skin. He quickly jogged to the distant train platform. By the time he arrived he was soaked through and his skin tingled unpleasantly.
He ducked under the low-hanging tin roof. The inside of the platform was well lit and Liatrees settled himself on the bench. Rainwater pooled around his boots and Liatrees touched it curiously. It was dark and oily with a red hue. He licked his lips and tasted iron.
"It rains blood here," he said aloud in surprise.
He sat back and looked at his wristwatch. Its dial read 01:00/20 local. He'd landed at 00:41/20 local. Liatrees squinted through the rain trying to spot the train's lights. The city in distance seemed to be made of silver and gold. Metallic skyscrapers clustered together and ringed a large palace.
Liatrees closed his eyes, this was one of the last moments he'd have to relax before his job began. Liatrees' lips quirked upwards; in all likelihood he already had people watching him. The ruler of Fish, Lord Draken, was notoriously thorough even when it came to the visit of an insignificant Minister of Interstellar Communication.
Suddenly, as if his thoughts had been heard, he felt that he was being watched. Liatrees sat up slowly and let his hand drift to his boot. His eyes searched the darkness.
"Hello," he called out. The rain on the tin roof suddenly seemed deafening. The lights of the distant city wavered.
"There," Liatrees whispered.
In the blackness before him, there was a vaguely humanoid shape. It was impossibly tall and thin.
"Iekso," he muttered as he dropped from the bench and drew his weapon. He quickly glanced around the station. There was nothing but old newspapers.
High-pitched laughter split the air and Liatrees jerked his head back towards the shadow. Its movements were convulsive and its limbs seemed to fold at unnatural angles.
Liatrees raised his gun and fired a shot slightly to the left of the shadow. "That was a warning," he called out. The shadow writhed and seemed to swell in size before continuing towards him.
His second shot took the shadow directly in the chest. It continued its staggered movements towards him without hesitating. "What are you?" Liatrees hissed.
Then in the distance, train headlights cut through the rain and the shadow lurched to a stop. Liatrees held completely still as the shadow turned its face to look at the approaching train. It spun back to him. Liatrees couldn't see its eyes but he knew that it was watching him. Then with an inhuman shriek, it turned and staggered away from the platform.
The train arrived moments later with screeching brakes and flashing lights, cutting off his view of the retreating shadow. Liatrees stood hastily, holstering his gun. The train doors opened and a pale man dressed neatly in a white suit stepped out. He was partially bald and thin as a rake.
He bowed to Liatrees, "Welcome to Fish, Minister Liet. I'm Lord Draken's secretary. I hope your voyage was uneventful."
Liatrees swallowed and straightened up, heart still racing, "Perfectly unremarkable," he replied, hoping he didn't sound out of breath. "You'll be escorting me to my accommodations?"
"Correct. This train will take us directly to the Minister's Quarter." The secretary extended his hand, "Allow me to take your luggage."
Liatrees lifted his bags, "That's quite alright. I packed light."
"I insist," the secretary said with a glint in his eye.
Liatrees paused then handed him his bag, "Well, if you insist."
"Thank you, Minister."
Liatrees climbed onto the train and before he'd even sat down, they were off. The inside of the train was modeled after an Earthen subway. Faded enlistment posters showed smiling young men and women. He couldn't even tell which faction they were for.
The secretary returned after a moment and sat across from Liatrees. His bag was nowhere to be seen. The man reached into his jacket and withdrew a handkerchief and offered it to Liatrees who took it and ran it over his face and hair. It came away dark red.
Liatrees made to give the handkerchief back but the secretary held up his hand. Liatrees shrugged and pocketed it. "Fish has rather unique rain," he said.
"Quite," the secretary replied. "It's an unfortunate byproduct of Fish's atmospheric composition."
Liatrees tilted his head and the man continued. "The thick clouds on Fish are able to trap iron and oil from the mines as well as water vapor and this is the combination."
"Blood rain," Liatrees said.
The secretary smiled wryly, "The locals call it the Ichean."
Liatrees nodded. God's Blood.
The train which had been moving through the dark countryside, suddenly came close to the citadel. The outskirts of the great city consisted of shanty towns. The train flew past these and crossed a large bridge over a river before entering the walled citadel.
The streets were dark and still. It was nearing the start of the fourth watch.
The train slowed to a stop as it entered a large watchtower garrison. The doors hissed open and two night watchmen boarded, talking loudly. When they saw Liatrees and the secretary they hesitated before resuming at quieter tone.
"The fucking slaves have started again." the uglier of the two said under his breath. "And there's nothing we can do to them. I swear even death doesn't scare them anymore."
"Can you blame them?" the second grumbled. "They shake hands with the Maker every other day down in those God-forsaken mines."
"It's only a matter of time before we've another riot."
"Just hope I'm not on duty when it happens."
They paused and looked at Liatrees before switching to Pic, Fish's native language.
"Off-Worlder."
"If the secretary's with him, he's a foreign minister."
"Probably here for conscription."
"This damn war," the ugly one muttered. "It's eating all our people."
Across from him, Liatrees saw the secretary's eyes narrow. Liatrees understood why. War was good business for Fish. As long as Fish could keep up its balancing act of selling military-grade fuel to both the Blood Monarch and the Federation, a galactic war was a small price to pay.
After another twenty minutes, the train stopped at the Minister's Quarter which stood just outside the palace. Liatrees exited the train and was immediately soaked through again. The Minister's Quarter was filled with humming streetlights and the large silver buildings he'd seen from the airfield.
The secretary exited the train and opened a clear umbrella; his white suit was still perfectly clean. The secretary led him into a building that towered above even the golden palace. The reception area was expansive but again poorly lit. Liatrees wondered if the EMP was still affecting the city.
The secretary handed Liatrees a key and his backpack, "Someone will be here to collect you at 10:00/20 local. I hope your stay will be productive." The secretary bowed smartly and turned on his heel.
Liatrees walked further into the reception area which had grey floors and windows on every outward-facing wall. Liatrees walked to the lifts and punched in the 58th floor.
His room's outer wall was a floor-to-ceiling window.
Liatrees set his bag on the bed and walked up to the window. In the distance, he could see the river they'd crossed upon entering the city. It was well past the start of the fourth watch and Liatrees could see the shanty town beginning to wake. Beyond the shanties, in what he'd first believed to be open countryside, Liatrees could see the great mines. In the dim light they looked like cavernous maws. Further beyond them was the airstrip. Liatrees shivered.
He turned away from the window and walked to the bathroom, intent on changing from his damp clothes. He flicked on the light and jerked at the sight of himself in the mirror.
The rain had plastered his hair to his face and turned its natural black color, dark red. Raindrops had dried on his face and left tracks of red down his face. It looked like he was bleeding from the eyes.
Liatrees pulled back the shower curtain and carefully stepped into the shower fully clothed. He turned on the water, half expecting it to be red. Clear water flowed from the faucet and he let it run through his fingers. The cold water was welcome after the scalding rain.
Outside the storm beat against the windowpanes and in the far distance a spaceship could be seen making its shaky ascent back into the heavens.