The Princess of Caldris

Winteroud Sole is a young psychic when the Royal Caldris Detectives ask him to help on a case. It is not long before the small group of investigators draws fire. The Transhuman Imperials, numerous galactic corporations, and underworld space syndicates all are suspect in an adventure that spans the civilized portion of the galaxy and reveals Pandora's box of horrors.Hammerstein's memories came at me-the flight deck of his first assignment, glorying in the sight of the Kingdom's ships of the line at the ready. Anticipation, joy, a thrill of imminent combat-and then the impossible, the unheard of-a wormhole deep in the gravity well of Baal One sweeping at at them like a cobra, hard and fast and the young Hammerstein watched as the ships of the line-and all of his friends were on those ships-disintegrated in the irresistible shock wave.He was nineteen and alone. The only real family he had ever known had been those fellows on the other ships. He had been transferred from one of those very ships that morning.There was an awkward moment as the face of the young Hammerstein morphed into the older iron man in front of me, more muscled, more scarred, more resolute. Suddenly, I knew, he was still carrying his nineteen year old self around, standing forever on that flight deck watching his friends die, and an indescribable loneliness taking their place for the rest of his life."Paramon and wormhole shock waves." I said, breaching the subject like pulling a patch from a wound-quickly so as not to drag out the inevitable.Most people would have barely perceived the slightest flicker in his eye. For me, however, it was as if the line of ships once again ruptured in violent sequence across his soul.He smiled, and I realized the old iron Detective had been forcing that smile for a very long, painful time.