[h1]Starship Liberty[/h1]
	[h2]Stockpile POSADA[/h2]

	The first indication of the approaching stockpile was the glistening light far in the distance. It began dim, little more than a dust mote illuminated by the light of the millions of stars around it and alien sun it orbited, a soft blue bulb dangling in the ethereal void. But as the Starship drew nearer, passing frigid gas giants and their frozen still moons the stockpile grew more prominent against the dark bands of light and shadow in the cloud that enveloped the blue star. Here and there asteroids shimmering with crystalline sheets of ice and raw minerals passed the windows of the Starship Liberty and pruning over their surface like polite bees swarms of small robotic drones carrying away in a thin thread the material they farmed away slowly.

	Seated at a small cafe at the outermost edge of one of Liberty's mid-decks Marcus Xhu watched as a held a hot chocolate in his hands as the mote in the distance grew larger with each passing moment. He attempted to calculate the starship's speed, he knew Posada's size well by heart. He had been born there. At a diameter of just shy of 1,500 miles, roughly 2,400 kilometers it was an impressive planetoid of artificial design. Adhoc, built over time, layered over and over as a sphere and spiked with thousands of landing towers bristling its outer surface and hundreds of larger decks that orbited it, ready to take on passengers and material to and from the stockpile. It hardly needed the star it orbited, but it was unlikely it could do anything if much was on the outside.

	As the faint mote moved across the window, its orientation in its frame changing with the orientation of Liberty to it, and where Marcus was within its circling it grew larger. The faint glow it emanated changing in character, regions of light and dark becoming more defined as it became like the old moon in old Earth's sky and the antenna that shot off of it like the spurs on a sea mine becoming more pronounced. The vast formless regions that glowed across it became more defined, turning into defined outlines, structures, individual specks of light across a darkened surface. “Well, here we are.”

	“Here we are.” Sal said. The two had been seated next to each other in silence, simply watching as Liberty drew near to Posada. Her thick curly hair tied into a bun behind her head, making her face look thinner without it all framing her head. She raised a coffee to her lips and drank as the flashing lights covering Posada flashed and glistened. Where the blue light of the alien star touched the surface the presence of large defensive guns glistened. As well as in silhouette the numerous large platforms adrift in the celestial medium waiting to connect with the voyaging space craft. Many others had found a partner, and the numerous forms and silhouettes of docked starships loomed between them and Posada.

	“Approaching Posada Landing 10-105.” a voice said over the intercom, “Cutting axial rotation in fifteen minutes. Please pack loose items into an enclosed space and finish your meals or drinks.”

	Marcus and Sal looked at each other, and quickly downed their drinks. “I don't know about you but I have everything packed away.” Sal commented, handing over her cup to a passing waiter.

	“You always do.” said Marcus.

	“You're not going to get hurt by anything in your quarters, are you?” Sal asked, concerned.

	“I should be fine. It's not like a table becomes any more dangerous if it's not locked down. We'll be in zero gravity.”

	They remained seated, watching as Liberty came into orbit around Posada. The minutes passed by. Muffled and distant, a soft clang rang through the hull of the Liberty and there was a tactile jolt under them. The motors that kept the starship turning had been cut off, and the decks continued to spin. But slowly. As time continued to pass there came a clear sensation of weightlessness throughout. At their seats Marcus and Sal felt as the pressure on the seat underneath lessened. As it did so, they felt the gradual momentum of the once moving room weigh gently on them and they began to lean to the side. As the room lost its gravity, this was translated into a floating sensation and then they were airborne. Sal giggled uncomfortably as she stuffed her shirt down her pants. The bun of her hair lifted and bobbed with each movement. And it was over, the decks finally stopped.

	“Docking procedures initiating.” the intercom spoke again as the cessation of the starship's movement was confirmed.

	“We should get ready.” Sal said, reaching about for something to grab onto and move herself along. Others were doing likewise as the people who manned the small cafe attempted to collect wayward garbage.

	Passing through the ship, weightless with the others was a controlled chaos. The passengers, its crew all knew what was happening, and orderly they assembled themselves without orders to the sides and made their respective ways to where they needed to be. Like traffic along a terrestrial road, the halls became lanes of separate directions on each wall. In this situation, with so many, there need not be but little direct confrontation to move and control the crowds.

	That which were not controlled were the small animals that lived aboard, the birds and the like which soon found themselves moving with weightless ease. A flap of the wing brought them to the discovery of the deregulated resistance brought by little gravity and they'd drift off with naught but air resistance to slow them. At a point, they would clutch for the plants and chirp anxiously as everything else moved around them.

	Over the loud speakers a voice issued updates on the current procedure. Liberty was in line. Liberty was being served. The service ferry was locked and awaiting passengers. At this update Marcus and Sal were on their way to engineering with a stream of others down the mighty and wide center axis. The long chamber echoed with the many thousands of voices. In the winding engineering halls, much more so. But aboard the ferry, seats were found and the vehicle began to fill. As it reached capacity, and the request was granted, it detached from Liberty's side and headed down to the spires of Posada below.

	Landing with a thud, the ferry came to settle at one of the spires. Frilled with numerous platforms, the spire was home to many ferries like it. And many options. Procedures went under way. The ferry was locked down, a bridge extended, and everything re-pressurized to normal. At the the chime of an alarm, and the flash of a blue light everything was go, and unstrapping themselves from the sea of their space bus everyone was released from their seats and went to the doors.

	Unlike the Starship Liberty, gravity in Posada was produced centrally. A sensation Marcus was quick to feel as they descended the landing spire in an elevator. Long windows passed regularly by, he watched as they went down through the miles. The outside universe speedily passing, unnervingly slow. But as the whole carriage came lower and lower the outer structures of Posada began to flower and bloom upwards, the thickly cabled antennas. The outward facing forests of solar cells. The automated hives of the billions of drones delivering in raw material to be refined into usable industrial honey: steel, titanium, gold, and much more.

	The windows went dark as the elevator passed through the metal crust of Posada, and for a while there was nothing but the eerily constant glow of the lighting. And then with a flash it broke through, and with a blinding brilliance the world lit up and they were drifting down into an ethereal, enclosed world enveloped by a silver white sky. They could feel the heat of the sky lamps, the soft UV warmth, the infrared, that made for a calibrated environment. Nothing was too hot, and nothing was too cold. The eyes, needing to adjust were blind for a moment as everything came into focus. Far below a landscape appeared, miniature as if a landscape of toys. But all the same alive. Towering ware house structures, massive factories. But large open parks, clusters of homes and communities like villages dotted the landscape like a picturesque story retelling of an Earth that was not.

	A sonorous and relieved sigh came over the cabin as the tension that had existed coming down out of space relieved itself and they all began to chatter happily. Many pushed themselves to the side where they could watch their progress to the surface. Distantly, herds of horses and animals move about grazing. On roads cars and trolleys rolled by as heavier trains worked along gentle slopping hillsides between warehouse and manufacturing depots.

	“How does this place work?” someone asked, their voice high in excitement. They had clearly never been to Posada.

	“On nuclear energy!” someone exclaimed, laughing, “They have a whole core at the heart, a massive one. So much so it produces enough gravity to be like a planet in its own right. Almost a star in its output. A Super Heavy Reactor.”

	One of three, Marcus knew. He leaned relaxed against the glass and watched the familiar landscape of Posada draw closer. It was a fairly consistent world. Pressed flat enough to be pleasant, but rolling enough to still be interesting. The only thing that marred it were the cables.

	Here and there hanging down like thick vines ran immense lengths of cables as wide as a house. Their charcoal black surface matte against the lights that shone against them. They ran into the ground, where they connected to broad silver couplings and disappeared into the depths below. They were blackened beanstalks, coursing with energy fed to the outer shell. They were so large it was hard to tell as well: were they supports to keep the outside from falling in, or to keep the two independent platforms from drifting apart?

	The elevator stopped. A gentle shake rocked through the cabin and the unready swayed unsteadily as they looked up and about from whatever they were doing. The cabin, a great round chamber sat silent for a moment before its doors slid open and everyone could leave. The fresh air was immediate, as were the sounds. The song of birds and the gentle rush of the wind. The passing hum of automobiles and the distant cry of a train. Hauntingly, it recalled memories of a world gone. Even to Marcus, who had grown up here, seen other worlds and other cities, and known nothing of Earth but was written and artificially constructed in the apparitions of simulation felt the unsettled sensation in his gut, in his heart, of a memory not remembered.

	“So, should we find them?” Sal asked as they stepped out, away from the elevators. They stood in the middle of a square. Already the newcomers were mixing in with the locals and the crowd was dispersing and mingling. Soon it would be unrecognizable as the atomic parts mixed with the atmospheric noise of the Posada community, “Or should we get a drink?”

	Marcus had on him a small thumb drive with the compiled data and a mirror of the hard-drive of the beacon they had found. On Posada there were many who could decrypt it all and translate it into something usable. In the intervening days the navigator's inner files had been decrypted, but the data wasn't in an unrecognizable format. The who, what, or where it had come from was hidden away in an added layer of abstract data. As was the story of the beacon itself, all of which was beyond the independent or loosely collective abilities of Liberty's analysts. Beyond finding or organizing an adventure to seek out the origin, there were those who would finalize the evidence. And who might identify the first steps.

	“Or perhaps you could go see your parents.” Sal said with a smile.

	Marcus laughed weakly and kicked the ground with his shoe, “They can wait.” he laughed, “Besides, I don't know how much a difference in time we're on now. I don't want to spoil anything.”

	Sal nodded, smiling concerning. It wasn't an unusual concern. “Alright, you take the lead then.”