Elias checked the last surviving living organism from Kalthera Six. The plant was showing some signs of growth as leaves stretched towards the light, though the leaves’ edges were still brown, and it looked barely alive. But it was a survivor. It had kept going after the environmental collapse of Kalthera Six had killed everything else, and Elias planned to keep it alive, no matter what it took.

He dripped a few drops of water onto the soil. His survey had suggested that Kalthera had been dying for centuries, and, having adapted to a harsh environment, Elias wanted to avoid the irony of it being killed by the abundance of the Ghostwake.

With that task done, he slid the glass door of the terrarium shut to allow the environment inside the glass to shift towards Kalthera, then turned and started towards the bridge. As he crossed the few dozen steps, one of the overhead lights flickered, and Elias reached up and flicked the bulb with his finger. It burned bright for a moment, then flickered and went out with a loud pop.

Across the room, Rust lifted his head, and his ears swiveled towards Elias. He then barked once and put his head down. “I know you’re trying to sleep. I didn’t break the light on purpose,” Elias said.

The dog’s short tail hit the metal of the ship’s wall twice, wagging, even though the dog’s eyes were already closed. He had chosen the Kahlite Hound because, besides being bred to survive in almost any environment, the breed had gene modifications that made Rust significantly smarter. Elias had owned dogs most of his life and never really cared how smart they were, but Rust was as close to a partner as he had, and sometimes needed to do things a normal dog wouldn’t be able to do.

According to the breeder, he was nearly as smart as a dolphin. Elias didn’t know any dolphins, but Rust was smarter than most people he knew, and caused fewer problems.

He carefully placed the lightbulb onto the workbench and, over the next fifteen minutes, removed the cover, replaced the diode, then put the cover back on. He only had a few dozen diodes left, and, as minor as lightbulbs might seem, he didn’t want to be stuck halfway between nowhere and nothing without the ship’s lights. He needed to visit somewhere civilized enough to get at least basic supplies; he thought as he carefully put the bulb back in place.

He then went to the bridge and sat in the old, worn chair. A piece of the leather was coming off to reveal the foam. He ignored it for now as he checked the ship’s sensors.

Star charts were useless this far out. The best ones had records of planets’ atmospheres. That told you about as much as the color of someone’s shirt told you about them. But he liked it that way.

Too many scouts explored the borders of the Commonwealth. You might make a living that way. There were bounties on surveys of systems near enough to the Commonwealth for one of the corporations to move in and strip mine it. But you’d never hit it big, and, more importantly, you’d never have a real adventure.

There was one planet that had caught his attention. Mostly, because when he was farther out, he had assumed it was at least two or perhaps three planets, because every time he checked, the gravitational pull on its star was different.

But now he suspected something far stranger than a system having several planets in close orbit was happening. It was a single planet with a different gravitational pull every few hours. This time, it registered as having almost 8 percent more mass than before.

That was impossible. Planets didn’t just change size, and any known technology to manipulate artificial gravity at a planetary scale would use so much energy that he’d have the energy signature from light years out. That meant new technology or something even stranger.

He changed course, then glanced past Rust into the second cargo hold. It was half full. That wouldn’t have been bad, if the main cargo hold on the deck below him hadn’t been so close to empty. But he had missed a few meals before, and, as long as the water recycler worked, he’d get to a colony before he missed too many meals. So what harm could there be in exploring one more planet?

It took almost two days to get to the planet. It had no name, and Elias resisted giving it one. Better to find out what the inhabitants called it rather than having to learn a new name. But he picked up plenty of other information. It was small for an inhabited planet, but its gravity showed that it fluctuated between about thirty percent less gravity than Earth to about twenty percent more, and it had nearly the same amount of dry land as Earth.

But what was strangest was that the dry land had a far more circular pattern than you found on most worlds. From what he could see, every shore and many of the islands had long circular lines. As if the entire world had been shaped over thousands, or perhaps millions, of years. And he suspected that at the center of each of those circles was what he was looking for. A source of artificial gravity on a scale large enough and long enough to have shaped the world.

About half of those circles had centers at the bottom of the planet’s oceans. Those would likely be higher gravity. So he picked one that had its center in an enormous mountain range. One that would be all but impossible on another world. But the artificial gravity of this world had shaped the tectonic plates.

The Ghostwake shuddered as it neared the planet. No matter how good artificial gravity was, it was never quite the same as the real thing. But he successfully landed on a small strip of forested land that was about halfway up a cliff, so the ship wasn’t easy to see and was nearly impossible to get to. He then strapped his trusty old plasma pistol to his side. He had carried The Talon through the entire war with him, and it had saved him more than once when the more complicated weapons had failed.

On his other hip was his Zhen’ik Blade. A long, curved ceremonial dagger taken off the body a Zhen’ik priest during the war. It was an excellent weapon with a blade that never seemed to dull, even after using it to cut kindling, and it was half the weight of the human combat knives he used. But that wasn’t why he had it. It was a reminder of the oath he had taken after that day. One of the few that he had kept.

He started exploring by stepping outside only long enough to make a circle around the Ghostwake to make sure it was secure. After that, he took Rust the hundred yards to the edge of the cliff to look out over the world.

Rust was as excited as ever to get out of the ship. The dog stayed near Elias, except to mark his territory on every tree they passed. The world was beautiful, and the sight reminded Elias why he was a scout as he sat at its edge and watched the world that no human had ever seen before. Across the way was a waterfall running down from the snow at the top of another peak.

It fell hundreds of feet, creating a wide and permanent rainbow. There were animals, too. Every world was variations on the themes of evolution. But it always found similar melodies. There were predators and prey, birds, fish, insects, and all the others. Though the more evolved things were, the more variation crept in.

But none of that was why Elias was here. He knew that somewhere in that valley was the center of a circle of artificial gravity that covered half a continent. Even that wasn’t what he was looking for now. What he spotted was the small wisp of smoke. None of this fully added up. Everything said that this world had to have a population at least as advanced as humans, but every sign was of a people that hadn’t even discovered agriculture.

But they had fire. That suggested both intelligence and told him the valley wasn’t empty. As he watched the smoke, he said, “Sorry, Rust, but I think you’re going to have to stay with the ship this time.”

The dog huffed once, then put his head back down. They sat there for another hour. It was too late to start exploring. Traveling on an inhabited world alone was dangerous enough.

Doing it in the dark was just stupid.

So he spent the evening gathering samples of most of the common plants and a few uncommon ones that looked interesting. With some luck, he might help restock the ship. He then put the ship into ground mode. It would feed and water Rust, as well as gathering power and air. Then, once the sun was all the way down, he moved slowly and carefully back out to the cliff’s edge.

Spotting the smoke during the day from a small fire wasn’t that easy. Spotting fire at night was far easier, especially on a world without a moon. That was lucky for them, he thought. The planet’s orbit already had to be erratic because of the artificial gravity. A moon would make that much worse, assuming it didn’t just crash into them.

He had expected a few small campfires. This area was too big and had too many resources for it to be entirely empty, but there were hundreds. A population density that was another sign of something odd about this planet.

After a good night’s sleep on the Ghostwake, Elias double-checked the plant’s arboretum and made sure Rust had his favorite toy. He then grabbed his pack and his walking stick and made his way out again. His knee hurt more today. That wasn’t surprising. He always limped more planetside. But a minor limp was better than you could hope after having been shot in that knee during the war.

He tried not to think about the war. Instead, he focused on getting down. That wouldn’t be the hard part. He simply rappelled down the side of the cliff. Even getting up shouldn’t be too hard, since gravity was so much lower than it should be. Enough that even the air rose higher, letting him breathe in areas that should have been so thin he was exhausted.

The sun was barely over the horizon as he reached the ground. It was a day’s hike to the center of the gravity field, and you didn’t rush on a planet you didn’t know. So he’d go halfway and set up a secure camp early and make it to the center at midday tomorrow.

The gravity here had shaped the world. But it was more complex than on most worlds. The trees were tall and thin, having evolved in this area and adapted to lower gravity. But the birds showed no signs of having adapted. Likely because they moved between the different gravities too much.

Then he entered a small clearing on the path and came face to face with four people. They were almost an insectoid centaur, with a long body that had six legs that changed into a more upfront body, with four arms. They had large packs across their backs, and one had half a dozen small children on their back.

They stopped quickly, and the largest pointed a spear at Elias. That was a natural reaction, and in most situations, the correct one.

Not wanting a fight, Elias held his hands up, fingers splayed out, and crept back. There was always a chance that could trigger an aggressive response, but most intelligent species avoided conflict if they could. And the population density suggested they weren’t overly territorial.

The one with the spear didn’t lower it right away, but he didn’t move forward, either. And, once Elias was a few steps back, one of them began to make a series of clicking noises that was likely a language.

Elias didn’t know if that was directed at him, but he didn’t have years to learn their language, so they’d have to get by with gestures and hope. But he still responded as he said, “You won’t understand me. But I just want to look around.”

There was silence for a moment, and then it lowered its spear. After it did, a native with blue and red streaks through the green carapace moved forward. The one with the children on the back chirped something as he approached, but he shook one of his hands at her. He then raised two of his hands up and spread his fingers out.

Elias couldn’t help but smile. This was a teenager ignoring his mother. You didn’t need language to recognize that. But curiosity was a trait that Elias appreciated. So Elias began to move his fingers slowly, careful not to do anything else that might surprise them.

The alien mimicked him. With the agreement to attempt to communicate clear, Elias reached slowly to his belt and carefully removed a small metal stick he carried in it. The alien started to mimic him, but didn’t have anything to reach for, so he simply watched him.

He took a step back when Elias took the curved dagger from his belt as well. But he was careful to move slowly and stay far enough back so he was no danger. But the entire group seemed to have relaxed. Elias bent down to the ground, and with a firm, sharp swipe, he ran the dagger along the ferrocerium rod next to a small bunch of grass.

The sparks would impress them. But the fire was clearly more interesting. And the young alien stepped forward, looking at the fire and clicking. Elias showed it to him once more, then pointed at the flint hand axe, then mimicked the look again.

After a second, the kid carefully put his hand out. Elias had shown people how to do this a few times, and so he held out the rod. But then took the chance to move closer when the kid pointed the rod the wrong way. He carefully pulled the tip of the rod so it didn’t point at the kid. That way, he wouldn’t burn himself.

It took three tries, but when the sparks came, the young man dropped the rod and stepped back. He then quickly stepped up and snatched the rod up off the ground. He held it carefully for a moment and looked up slowly and, clearly, reluctantly held it out towards Elias. He clearly wanted it, but he wasn’t sure if it was a gift.

Elias wished he could explain that it wouldn’t work forever, but he took a second rod from his pouch, then put it in the man’s hand, and then slowly pushed the boy’s fingers around the rods.

There was more clicking, and the two rods disappeared into his pouch. But a few fishhooks made from rock came out.

They had been made carefully and were certainly something the young man cared about. When you traveled constantly, you didn’t carry things you didn’t need. But, unlike the rods, it was something he could get more of, and Elias always collected useful tools from the worlds he visited. All too often, humans overcomplicated things. These were people who knew how to survive on this world.

Once the fish hooks were safely in one of his packs, Elias pointed towards the center of the area where he was going. The people seemed easy enough to deal with, but he’d rather not have to go through the same introduction a dozen more times.

There was some clicking and pointing, and, after a few minutes, they seemed to understand, and the small group turned and started that way. Elias followed them.