One Ring to Rule Them All

by jinnis

When I arrived at Qeb Station, I wondered about the mind who'd come up with the concept. It's common knowledge the easiest way to create artificial gravity in a space station is to construct it as a spinning ring. That's what they did on Qeb, but with a twist. The station was a conglomerate of rings and ringlets, some concentric and spinning around the station axis like a planet's ring. To my surprise, some rotated around it at an angle, though, and smaller ones spun around the key rings like wedding bands around a finger. Not that I know much about wedding bands, but it was one of the old Earth customs I'd read about during my last solo haul.

A haul that had been far too long and boring, but here I was with my cargo still intact and ready for unloading. If Qeb was accepting visitors and had a need for the odd collection of items in my cargo hold.

I shouldn't have worried. On my fist call, a friendly station AI flooded me in greetings in all standard lingos and a few I'd never heard before. Once communication was established, it guided me to the cargo dock on station nadir and assured me it would announce my arrival to potential buyers for my cargo.

The AI held its promise. I hadn't docked yet when I received the first messages of interested customers. While I had hoped I'd find a collector valuing the weird kurttuma porcelain plates my ship carried, I was surprised. Suddenly, I hoped I'd get the cash to pay for the long-needed overhaul of my ship. Qeb had a name as an entertaining place, too, catering to the needs of all the species of the cluster — and there were a few. Perhaps I'd find an enjoyable way to spend the time until the repairs were done?

To my surprise, my porcelains sold within the hour. Representatives of at least seven species haggled over the ugly things as if they were irreplaceable rarities. Which they probably were, considering they came from half a galaxy away. I'd ended up with them as payment for saving a kurttuma diplomatic mission stranded near a minor black hole in the zeta sector. Kurttuma was an agricultural world newly accepted into the Border Alliance. Aside from perishable crops, the porcelain had been the only reward they could offer that seemed worth the exploit. It turned out the ugly things were unsellable in the inner worlds. So I had taken my chance and brought my load to the free trade zone — and bingo.

If the word about my success spread, the galaxy might be flooded with kurttuma porcelain in the foreseeable future. This wasn't the time to fret about what was yet to come, though. Instead, I replenished my stores and bought enough fuel to bring my ship across the galaxy. The rest of my cash I'd spend in the famous entertainment sectors of Qeb. I'd heard rumours that once you did the round and went for a second tour, most stalls would be replaced by new, more exotic ones meanwhile.

One of my grateful customers provided me with a map of the rings. Each one was adapted to the needs of a different species. A visit to Qeb could thus equal a tour of dozens of worlds.

But I wasn't meant to make this experience. On my way to the central nexus of the station, I got stopped by two talorians.

"Captain Melissa Short?"

I craned my neck to look up at the speaker, who made my name feel appropriate despite my 6 ft 5.

"Yes, how can I help you?" The icy sweat running down my spine was hard to ignore, but I gave my best attempt at a smile.

"You are the trader with the rare works of art?"

It seemed I'd opened a market for the kurttuma surplus production. "All sold, I'm sorry."

"We are not interested in buying."

"Oh." I wasn't prepared for small talk with a giant twice as tall as me and a voice like the thunder of my ship's hyper drive.

"We are here to accompany you to the station council."

Shit. What rule had I broken this time? I'd been sure my record was clean, my credentials in order, and my ship's registry updated. Still, I must have missed something. "Sure, lead the way."

While we walked towards an elevator, my gaze darted left and right, but there was no plausible escape route—with those thugs flanking me. I had to play this game by their rules. They brought me into a luxurious part of the station, kept all in dark blue and gold. In the dim light, we walked on soft carpets with intricate floral patterns shimmering in shades of blue and purple. Perhaps I wasn't brought to an interrogation room after all.

My suspicion spiked when my two guards stepped aside to let me enter a vast room. But this wasn't a prison cell. Tiny floating lights spread a blueish sheen in the octagonal chamber. On a huge multifunction cushion lounged a durumian male, his black spindly limps folded under the massive body. I had never seen a male of this species before, as only the females were deemed fit to travel the space ways. How did this one arrive on Qeb? Was he born here? Of course, I didn't dare to ask.

He turned his turret-like head in my direction and worked the mandible claws. "Welcome to Qeb, Melissa Short. Please have a seat."

I chose a knee-high sitting cube at a safe distance. "Thank you so much. How did I earn the honour of this meeting?"

"Ah, straight to the point. I was told to expect this. My name is Hvany se'Kara. Would you like a drink? I'm sure we can find something that pleases your palate."

"Um. Just water, please." I didn't want to muddle my mind, even if this hadn't gone awry yet.

"Of course." He tipped onto a smooth pane in the side of his cushion and a bot brought me a crystal glass with a clear liquid and a beaker of something steaming to se'Kara. While he dunked a proboscis int his drink, I sniffed at mine, but it contained only water. I took a sip.

"Very well, Melissa Short." He returned the empty cup to the bot. "I gather you are curious to know why we invited you here. We have a proposal for you."

A proposal? And who qualified as we in this case? "That's very considerate. May I ask what it contains?"

"You would become part of the council of Qeb, the entity I represent here. Our records suggest you might be the ideal person to replenish a recent vacancy."

I wasn't looking for a job, but perhaps it was time to settle down for a bit? At least I should listen to this offer. "You have my attention. Please go ahead."

He unfolded several of his limbs and shifted his position to pick something from a hidden compartment in his cushion

"Here is our offer." He handed the item to the bot, who presented me with an ornate box half the size of my palm. "Please, have a look."

The box seemed heavy for its size. I snapped up the lid and stared at a golden ring cushioned in purple velvet. It sparkled in the light of the tiny glow bots and I longed to touch it, to wear it, to see it sparkle on my finger. But I held back. There must be more to this deal.

"A beautiful ring. But why me? And what would my job be?"

He wriggled his limbs and sent me an unreadable stare out of his compound eyes. "This is the master of all the station rings, so to say. You would have access to all the inner workings and connect directly to the station's intelligence. As a personified link, you would stand between the council and the individuality that is Qeb station."

I'd never imagined a station could be seen as an individual entity. But he hadn't answered one of my questions. "Why me?"

"You are special."

The hairs on my neck stood up. I was old enough and knew myself well enough to know I wasn't, and I still couldn't imagine why I was treated like royalty here.

"What is it? Why don't you just ask one of the station residents, the stall holders or clients down there in the rings?"

His eyes gleamed in all the shades of a rainbow, mesmerising and almost hypnotic. "Not everyone is suited for this task. Unfortunately, your predecessor died a few rotations ago. It proved harder than expected to find an adequate replacement."

"What did they die from?" My natural suspiciousness rang an alarm bell. What if the former wearer of the ring had died because of this job?

"Nothing remarkable. Organic species have a limited lifespan, as you know."

He was right, of course. But still... "Why me? What makes me special?"

"You're human."

Thoughts raced through my head like a swarm of disconnected mining drones. "What's that got to do with anything?"

The chit dropped before he shook his obvious embarrassment. With their single and rather simple brain, humans were thought by most other species to be gullible and easy to control. And humans were rare out here in the free trade zone. I knew what I had to do.

"Thank you so much for this amazing offer, but I think I'm better suited for the cargo run."

I closed the box. The lid cut off the craving and longing I'd felt just a moment before. With a sigh, I placed it on my seat and turned to leave.

To my surprise, no one kept me. I boarded my ship, logged myself out of the dock, and set course for the inner worlds. Perhaps I should set up a distribution network for kurttuma porcelain.

I breathed easier once Qeb was just a memory on the other side of a hyperspace bubble. In all the years I've travelled the space ways since, no one ever offered me a similar opportunity. And until today, I wonder if I avoided a golden trap or forfeited the opportunity of my life. I'll never know.

But I never went back to Qeb, either.