Chapter 9: The Map

Meno lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling from the higher bunk. He’d heard Angie get up some time ago but he hadn’t moved, pretending to still be asleep. He needed some time to himself, just a little space to think. Everything had happened so fast. His world had just changed overnight.

He took a deep breath, lifted his arm over his eyes, and sank his head back into the soft pillow. He felt so torn. A part of him felt guilty for being happy, happy that he finally had a chance to explore the galaxy, something he’d always dreamed of. But that happiness also felt like betrayal.

He felt that he had let them down by leaving, and now he was letting them down again just by thinking that. He hadn’t been there for the old man in his final moments. And according to Paba and all her science mumbo jumbo, it hadn’t technically happened yet, thanks to time dilation. But that didn’t matter. Not to him. He was still running from that moment.

Exhaling deeply. He recognised that he was completely out of his depth. He moved and sat on the edge of the bed, knowing that the more he thought about it, the less he would have a grip on it. Which, at the moment, was tenuous enough. He needed to move around.

Even now, he found himself marvelling at how comfortable the bed had been. The pillows and the sheets were so soft, almost unreal. It was something that he had never even guessed would exist.

He wiped his face, pulled on the jumpsuit, and made his way toward the kitchen area, where he could hear Paba and Angie talking.

“...buried about thirty-odd of them himself,” Angie was saying in hushed tones. Meno paused in the passageway. “Lor Dimitri, the one I told you about, was the last one in the town. He was probably closest to him.” He heard Paba sigh at that. Meno didn’t want to listen anymore. It felt intrusive, like he was eavesdropping on his own story. He cleared his throat before stepping into the room.

“Meno?” Angie’s voice carried through. He stepped into the room with a broad smile, pretending that he hadn’t heard a thing.

He greeted them both with a cheerful “Good morning,” though the words only added to his already-spinning head. Did time even work the same way out here? He considered asking Paba. Maybe. He probably wouldn’t understand the answer anyway.

“Can I get you some coffee?” Paba asked in a gentle tone, one that Meno hadn’t heard from her yet. He nodded with a smile, not wanting to make things awkward. He didn’t want her to feel sorry for him, but he could see it in her eyes, the way they lingered on him, soft with pity.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, not wanting this to be something. “I overheard you when I was coming in. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. It was the best childhood I’ve ever experienced,” he added, directing the words more toward Paba than Angie.

“We weren’t speaking behind your back,” Paba said, her usual tone back. “Punk,” she added with a smirk, holding a silver cylinder in her hand.

“It’s fine,” Angie said, casting a humorous glance between them. “I was just filling Paba in on Gol.”

He took a seat at the table, and Paba passed him a cup she’d just poured from the silver cylinder. The smell was rich, strong. He cupped the sides of the cup, feeling the warmth seep through. It struck him as odd that he hadn’t noticed how cold he’d been until now.

He took a sip and smacked his lips. The taste hit him at once, bitter, sweet, comforting, and jarring, all at the same time. It seemed to make both of them smile.

“I’m glad you’re up, Meno,” said Angie. “We need to go over Yeley. I’ve been speaking with Paba, and she doesn’t have any idea what’s waiting for us there, and I don’t like surprises.” She picked up a datapad from the centre of the table and tapped it. A hologram of a planet emerged, casting light across the room. The sphere rotated above the pad, and Meno’s eyes widened, lit up by the dancing lights that formed the planet’s image.

“That’s amazing,” he murmured under his breath.

“Yeley’s been in the news recently,” Angie continued, “There have been disputes about how the people are being treated. It seems to stem from new food manufacturing regulations coming from the Houses.”

“It’s always the bloody Houses,” Paba grumbled.

“The Yeleans feel like they’re getting screwed over, putting it politely. The new rules require them to produce more at lower prices. On top of that, the shelf life for their products has been shortened, so they can’t store or ship food long-term. Even if it’s still good, it has to be discarded.”

“I’ve seen that happening all over,” Paba said. “It’s making it harder and harder for people to produce anything. No doubt, the Houses will come up with an amazing solution for all of this if Yeley joins. ”

“Joins?” Meno asked, trying to keep up.

“Yeley’s still independent,” Angie said.

“Not many of those left,” Paba added.

“Anyway,” Angie continued, “The real reason Yeley’s making headlines is because the people are blaming the planetary leaders, the Traes.” The hologram above the datapad shifted to show the face of a handsome middle-aged man with thick blonde hair swept back to his shoulders and a proud, chiseled expression. “Pac Traes, and his wife, Eher. Pac handles administrative duties,” Angie explained. The image of Pac faded, replaced by a tall woman with fine blonde hair and a kind, empathetic face. “Eher is more of the people’s champion. Together, they’ve pushed back against the new regulations and as a result, they’ve already lost contracts to supply two planets.”

“Surely pushing back is what the people would’ve wanted?” Meno asked.

“There’s no pleasing people, even when you do exactly that,” Paba said dryly.

“A contract with a planet is massive. It builds huge farms. Yeley is basically one big farm. Losing one means lost jobs, lost income, and that creates economic problems that…”

“Blah, blah, blah. What do we need to know?” Paba shook her head side to side as she said it.

Angie steadied herself after Paba’s interruption, hiding her frustration rather quickly.

“Yeley isn’t a happy place right now. There’ve been threats of riots. Riots lead to violence. Violence means we’ll be running again.” She said it plainly, glancing at Paba, who smiled with her head tilted to the side.

“I don’t know why Worrec is sending you there,” she added to Meno.

“Maybe to hide in the chaos?” Paba mused, her face resting fully in her hands, squishing her cheeks.

“He made it sound like it was a test,” Meno said. Angie paused, taking that in.

“Well, if that’s the case, then let’s learn everything we can so you can pass,” she replied.

Meno noticed how she carefully kept herself out of the equation. They were going to the planet. They needed to pass the test. But she spoke as if it was only his test. He didn’t press the point and simply kept listening. She continued, in a reminiscent style that reminded Meno of Mr. Dimitri.

Yeley sat in the middle of three regions. Two were official territories: House Dorlec, and House Artelis. Paba expanded the hologram, zooming out from the planet to the system, then to the surrounding clusters. Soon, they were looking at a sweeping view of the galaxy, with Yeley’s solar system reduced to a single glowing speck. There were faint lines drawn in space that showed the divided space of the Houses. Dorlec space only intersected near the Yelean system. On the other side was the Artelis House, its territory seemed to be a long, curving line that went across Yeley’s system.

The third region was different. It was a small pocket of space that sat in a spot between the two. It sat far from Yeley, a pocket of space shaped like a droplet tapering toward the system. Angie pointed it out. “That’s Midnight, home of the Eshara,” she explained. “ It’s effectively a criminal underworld.”

“And people just know about it?” Meno asked, frowning.

“It’s one of those things that people just don’t bring up,” Angie replied. “Nothing will change it”

“Criminals are useful to the Houses,” added Paba, her gaze fixed on the map. “They can do things that are illegal for the Houses to do. They use the Eshara quite often.” Angie seemed impressed with Paba for knowing that.

“It’s said that the Eshara also keep things in order,” Angie continued. “They control the other crime empires in the galaxy and hold them to account.” Meno wasn’t sure how that made anything better. It sounded like trusting one gang to manage the others. But again, he didn’t press the issue.

It turned out that Yeley provided agricultural goods to twelve different planets. Five of those were under House control, the rest remained independent. Angie commented that this region of the galaxy had a much higher ratio of independently governed planets than most others. From what she said, it seemed that House Artelis wasn’t particularly interested in claiming planets outright, as long as they didn’t pose a threat.

“The Artelis are led by Lord Louis Matise,” Angie said.

“Matise? I thought there was a House called Matise?” Meno asked.

“There is. He’s the son of the Matise Head. Lord Louis Matise was placed into that role during the war after the Artelis lost their House Head and most of their leadership,” Angie replied.

“He prefers Sonny,” Paba chimed in, as if it were a scandal not to know. “And he is scrumptious.”

Meno blinked, suddenly understanding. It seemed she hadn’t met him, but she assured them that she knew he liked being called Sonny because she had watched every interview he’d ever given. Ever.

“He dated this one princess,” she continued, “but she was way too high maintenance, and he said…” She stopped at the look Angie was giving her. Meno smiled. He liked that the tough exterior that Paba had put on the day before had fallen this easily.

“He rose to some prominence during the war,” Angie said, steering the conversation back. “He’s no longer just René Matise’s son but a House Head in his own right.”

“Was he the one who helped you and Mr. Dimitri?” Meno asked, recalling a story the old man had told him. A young soldier had intervened, saving their ship from being sent to a planet. According to Dimitri, there’d been no chance of survival. Angie nodded. Paba opened her mouth, clearly eager to launch into a question, but Angie raised a hand and stopped her with a look.

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“I never met him, never even saw him,” Angie said, “but yes, it was him”

“So…” Meno began, wanting to know more about the region and the planet. “With all of this happening around Yeley, there could be some major trouble to come?”

“It seems that way. Though I doubt that the Dorlec would pick a fight with Artelis, and the Eshara wouldn't fight with either. Their understanding with the Houses would be at risk”

Meno continued to absorb everything that he could, as the rest of the conversation was filled with speculation as to how things could go wrong on Yeley. One House interfering with another. The Yeleans are picking sides. The people are turning on their Planetary Heads. The Eshara doing what criminals do best. It seemed that both Angie and Paba were looking at every option.

After a while, the two women decided to take a break. Angie headed to the kitchen to make more food, much to Meno’s sheer and absolute delight. While Paba disappeared down the hall, making a point to remind them she was going to the ‘Captain's quarters’.

Meno picked up the datapad and mimicked what he’d seen Paba do, spreading his hands across the screen to expand the map. He kept zooming out, pulling and pulling, until the view revealed the broader region of space controlled by the Houses. To his surprise, it wasn’t the entire galaxy. It was a region within the spiral, a third, maybe, but not all of it, as he’d always assumed. It felt foolish now, thinking the Houses had stretched across every inch of it.

He studied the lines dividing the regions and noticed that some were much larger than others. What he had thought was the entirety of House Artelis's space, the long, curving line turned out to be just a portion of their domain. Their territory acted like a boundary, wrapping around all the other regions, except one, which was outside of it.

“You can see why Grand Lord Matise wanted his son in control of that House, can’t you?” Angie said, noticing Meno tracing his finger along the ring of House Artelis. The Matise, Meno had heard their name countless times back in Gol. Even Meno knew them as the most powerful of the Eleven Houses. They were the hand of the Autarch. Their leader was Grand Lord René Matise, and Meno could see why placing his son as the head of the Artelis would make sense. René could rule from the inner systems, while his son, Sonny, could enforce their rule in the outer.

“Where are you from?” Meno asked. Angie moved over with a smile and pointed to a dark stretch on the edge of the House territories. It didn't have as much light as the others.

“Around here somewhere,” she said. “I was born within the borders of the Hulfean House. So was Lor.” Her smile faded a little, edged with sadness. She was pointing at the only region that sat outside Artelis’s border, though it lay close to its border. Meno had heard stories about the Hulfeans and their leader, King Locne, the war god. Some said he was thousands of years old, the most powerful being to ever exist. Hellen had always scoffed, telling Meno it was just a myth and that the Hulfeans clung to the legend of Locne to make themselves seem stronger. Meno had heard Mr. Dimitri pray to Locne many times as a child, and so had always known him as a symbol of their faith, a deity in their religion rather than a man.

“Why is it so dark in comparison?” Meno asked.

“Fewer systems,” Angie replied, forcing a smile. “The House Hulf is old. It might even be the oldest left, and it’s been at war pretty much since it started. Hence, Locne’s nickname, the war god. Some of the systems were destroyed, but it’s mainly because of who the Hulfeans border.” She pointed to a region that lay just beyond the outer edge of Hulfean space. This was the darkest region in the depiction of the galaxy. Meno had assumed that nothing was there.

“What’s there?” Meno asked.

“The Masma were there,” she said, “The old god Emperor Bel, the one that we went to war with,” she added, her voice turning sharp, “The entire region is now a wasteland. They say that Locne sits and watches it, to make sure they never rise again.”

“Was he that bad?” Meno asked. Hearing the question out loud, it felt childish. “The god-emperor, I mean?” He’d never really gotten a straight answer back in Gol. Now, seeing all of this, his mind stirred

“It needed all of the Houses combined to stop him,” she said, her voice heavy. “Even then, we didn't know if we would win.” Meno thought of the stories Mr. Dimitri used to tell him and Swan. That’s when the last of the Sha-En arrived.

“Did you ever see the child of the Sha-En?” he asked. She laughed softly as he said it.

“No. I don’t know if he was real or not, if that’s what you're asking,” she said. “I heard of him, though. Everyone did. The boy who stopped the Kryptea and started the war with the Masma.” Meno looked back at the map. There was so much out there, so much history he didn’t know anything about.

“What about this area? It looks like there are three Houses altogether?" Meno pointed to the brightest region in the galaxy. At its centre, three Houses each held a third of a large circle.

“That’s Aseitas, the Centre of Power in the galaxy. The Autarch's planet,” she said, clarifying. “Those three Houses are the Royal Houses, or Grand Houses. They always seem to change what they are bloody called. They control the rest of the Houses and work directly with the Autarch. They are part of the Royal Family,” She pointed to each of the three segments. “The Serifine, led by Anna Serfine, is here. The Nissar-Ra, I don't know who is in control of them, their last head died during the war. Finally, the Matise, headed by Grand Head René Matise, he’s the one who’s really in control. The three Houses are meant to rule together for the Autarch, but Matise has the most powerful House in the Galaxy. It’s effectively the Autarch’s military.”

“It looks amazing,” Meno said, looking at all of the light in the region. He took in the web of trade routes, the planets, stars, everything.

“Hope that you never find yourself there,” she said, watching him carefully. He turned to her, not understanding. “Firstly, you are on the run, and that is the centre of power. It’s in the name. Secondly, that place isn't for people like us. That’s for the rich, the powerful and the Royal. The outskirts of the galaxy will do us just fine,” she said. She watched him for a moment, and then said sharply, “Now, what did Lor teach you about tech and how to handle it?”

“Well,” Meno started, knowing this wasn’t exactly a subject he’d ever paid much attention to. He had no frame of reference on Gol, so he’d always found it pretty boring, but he tried. “Tech allows people to use energy in different ways. Professor Swan tried to explain it to me once, but I never really got it. He never really told me how to handle it specifically, just that I should be wary of people who have it.”

Angie nodded, and Meno could tell she was already thinking about the ton of work she had ahead of her.

“Primers?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just that they have natural abilities, like tech, but they were born with it,” Meno said, a little unsure. “He never said anything special about them.” He looked at her, noticing she seemed to be treating the two things, tech and Primers, as different.

Meno knew the major difference between tech users and Primers. Tech users had advanced technology embedded in their bodies. Small generators that extracted energy from within them and from their surroundings. That energy was then channelled into a specific signature to produce a desired effect. Simple, you implant the tech, and if you were compatible, you could suddenly use energy in different ways, like throwing fire, or reading minds. As a child, he had always wanted some tech, but because they didn't have any on Gol, it had been something that he had drifted away from.

Primers, on the other hand, were people who could do the same thing naturally, without the need for tech. They were the first to develop the ability to generate energy within themselves. Miss Hellen had been taking Meno through this training, though he’d never been particularly good at it, he had endevoured in the training to see if he was lucky enough to be gifted with divine like powers.

“Primers are not the same,” Paba said, shaking her head. She’d come back in while he’d been lost in thought and was now standing at the doorway. Angie shot her a brief look before reinforcing her point.

“Lor never liked them. Had always had a grudge against them. Primers are held in very high esteem, and usually grunts like us,” she said, meaning Mr. Dimitri too, “Were just there to support them. That’s why he didn’t exactly approve of the training Hellen was giving you,” she said casually. But Meno felt oddly strange, not just because she knew about the training, but because she spoke as if she'd been there, like she'd been part of it. She seemed to notice his reaction but pushed on anyway. “They’ve got a natural gift for it, he got that right. But because they can draw energy on their own, they don’t have to worry about the limitations of tech. Which means they’re always stronger,” she said. “They also don’t have your usual tech gifts. Tech that makes you stronger and faster is pretty standard these days. Sure, there’s tech that can help you project energy, but it draws a ton of power, and the generators can only do so much. Not many people have the right affinity to use tech well.”

“So a Primer can draw on more power?” Meno said.

“And they can do crazy shit,” Paba jumped in, eyes wide. “Like alter gravity, or teleport, or phase through shit, shoot lightning from their hands, or—”

“Okay,” Angie cut in, raising a hand. “Thank you, Paba. They are different. And they can do some pretty ridiculous things. Like I said, during the war, we basically just supported them. They can be incredibly powerful”

“You think we’re going to run into some?”

“It’s possible. We just need to be ready for anything. They’re rare, about one in ten thousand.”

“But when there are trillions in the galaxy,” Paba said, “one in ten thousand is still a lot.” Angie nodded in agreement before turning back to Meno.

“You managed well against two tech users, but that was basic tech, just strength and speed enhancements,” Angie said. “You’ve got some tech now, but it looks like it’s just comms.” Meno noticed Paba pull a strange face, like she’d just realised something. “We need you ready in case we run into something more”

“How can I tell a Primer from a tech user?” he asked. Angie gave a slight smile, clearly pleased he was taking it seriously.

“Tech users usually have generic abilities, and it will be limited,” Angie explained. “Like those soldiers in the cargo bay. They can be managed. Some have energy shields, usually implanted in their arms. Look for the clues. If you see one with a shield, aim for the arm, cut it off if you can.”

“You don’t have any other tech?” Paba said to Meno, her face scrunched up. Angie didn’t respond, but shook her head quickly at Paba. He could see the pilot was very confused by this.

“Tech is usually implanted in the body where it’s most effective,” Angie said, as she stood. “Your comms tech? Behind your ear. Shields? Usually in the forearm. Not all tech is made equal. Some are better than others, but they’re not handing high-end tech to goons. If you’re facing goons, their tech will be standard issue. But if you come across high-ranking soldiers, expect something far more dangerous. Better tech, tailored to their strengths. If that happens, get out.” Meno nodded. He’d heard some of this from people back in Gol, but not like this. This was so much more.

He learned that tech users are often chosen for their affinity. A person with high perception might become a Seer, someone who can penetrate a mind, figure out secrets and see if you're lying or not. That he had heard before. Someone strong or fast would get tech to enhance their muscles. And then there are rare ones, people with such a strong affinity that could give them the ability so they can teleport, or walk through a crowd and not be seen.

His mind started to spin when she started to describe Primers. They seemed a completely different species, people born with the ability to manipulate energy itself. She wasn't able to give Meno specifics on what they could do, simply because it was innumerable.

“Some of them have the ability to disrupt the atomic structure of whatever they touch,” she explained. “Making it so unstable it crumbles when touched,” as Paba added.

Some could trap a mind in an illusion so powerful that the person would have no idea that they were in one at all. And if a Primer was powerful enough, they could do it to multiple people at once.

“Who are the strongest?” Meno asked, practically buzzing with excitement. This was the most incredible thing he’d ever heard. Angie shot him a cautious look, and he realised he probably wasn’t reacting the way he should be.

“The ones that can use fundamental forces,” Paba answered. Her eyes were wide, clearly just as fascinated as he was. “Gravity, weak and strong forces, Electromagnetism, they can break…reality.” She threw her hands dramatically to her forehead. “They're crazy.”

“Don’t worry about them. That’s pretty much House Head territory,” Angie said. “Even then, there are only a handful who can do that kind of thing.” It was clear she didn’t appreciate Paba indulging Meno.

All he could think now was, ‘How do I get this?’ He didn’t dare ask Angie, though. She seemed more worried about dealing with people like this than actually wanting to be one. Miss Hellen had been training him in this, she thought that he might be able to do it. He hadn’t been very good, but maybe he just needed more time. More effort. What powers could I get? he wondered.

“Meno,” Angie said, snapping her fingers in front of him. He blinked. “You’ve had training on this?” Paba sat up, her curiosity suddenly piqued. “You were bad at it, right?”

When he nodded, Paba sank back into her chair.

“Yeah, maybe I’m just not very good at it yet, though”, Meno said.

"How did he fight that soldier then?" Paba asked, seeming flushed. She did not look at Meno and directed her question directly at Angie. The old soldier just gave a strained look, as though telling Paba that she did not know, and that this was not the time for a conversation like that.

She nodded to Meno after a shared glance with Paba. “Keep training. It obviously did some good against the soldiers.” But Meno's thoughts were elsewhere. Even as uncomfortable as he felt with the unsaid discussion between Paba and Angie, his thoughts drifted to the lofty possibilities of what he had just heard. These people, these Primers—they must have been incredible. He couldnt help but hope, that he was one of them.