Echoes of Avarice

by Brendan O'Neill

  The assault rifle in her hands was deadly. Set to single-fire, she had become the Reaper incarnate. The few men that were foolish enough to try charging the fifty-foot span between their cover and Lavi’s died from a single round in their chest.

  “How’s it going?” Connor said as he dropped down next to her. He had his weapon readied, but she reacted far quicker than he. Most of the time, when a guard happened to stick his head out, Lavi shot him before Connor could register the threat.

  “I got this!” she shouted. “Get those women in the shuttle.”

  Connor slung his rifle onto his shoulder, then grabbed the blonde woman. Keeping low, he made his way to the shuttle. Bullets and shot flew overhead, and he could hear dozens of them splatter on the outside of the shuttle as he entered. Speed being more important in Connor’s mind than grace, he simply tossed the woman into one of the empty seats, then rushed back for the second. In less than a minute, both women were aboard.

  “Connor,” Charisma called. “Help me!”

  “I need you to pick Bill up slowly and carefully,” she said when he rushed over. A bullet whizzed past her so close it whipped up her hair. She was so focused on saving a life she her only reaction was a quick blink. “I’ll hold his head still. You have to be VERY careful not to jostle him.”

  “Got it.” Connor said as he gently lifted his friend. Wild Bill’s shirt and skin was caked with sticky blood. Even in the wind, Connor could swear he smelled its coppery tang. Slowly and gently, the pair moved Wild Bill into the shuttle. Charisma began strapping him down as Connor shouldered his P90 and moved to the doorway.

  Jackie burst in the shuttle a split second later and took a position at the other side of the doorway. “Come on, you bastard!” he shouted at Akshay, then fired a burst toward the piping they had been hiding behind. Akshay took one last look from behind the conduit before running full tilt toward the safety of the shuttle.

  Tejeda lifted off, moving the shuttle to the far side of the platform, near Lavi. Bullets continued to spatter the shuttle’s hull like rain, and about as effectively as rain. Connor and Jackie leaned out, firing at anything that moved. Connor’s aim was studious, his control disciplined. Even with a fifty-round clip, he did his best to make every shot count.

  Jackie, on the other hand, seemed to feel it was his duty to use as much ammunition as possible. The man shot from the hip, sending an almost constant stream of searing lead in the general direction of the enemy. He didn’t hit many people, but he definitely kept their heads down.

  “Move, Lavi!” Connor shouted. She jumped up in response and raced for the open shuttle door, firing the last of her ammunition blindly toward the enemy. She’d covered almost half the distance when one of the guards got lucky. One of their bullets somehow found a home in her waist. Lavi clutched her side and twisted as she fell to the deck. The woman writhed in pain, desperately clawing her way to the shuttle.

  “Cover me!” Connor shouted as he bolted toward the woman. He dropped to a kneel, the hard metal grating digging painfully into his knees.

  “Being a hero again?” Lavi growled in pain as she wrapped her arm around his neck.

  “I haven’t had the chance to kick your ass yet,” Connor replied with a grunt as he heaved her up. “I figure with a bullet in you, I got a shot.”

  “Not even with ten,” she growled. Connor thought he saw a hint of a smile through her grimace of pain.

  It was like one of his televids, Connor thought, as the two hobbled for safety. Tons of bad guys, bullets flying all around, and the beautiful woman was injured and needed the hero’s help. The only thing missing was the massive explosions. Soon to come, he thought.

  He was almost to the shuttle when his luck expired. He was so close to the shuttle hovering near the edge that without Lavi’s weight he could have jumped in. But a bullet tore through his ankle. Connor screamed and toppled forward. He saw Lavi grab the edge of the shuttle, Akshay’s strong hands seizing her wrists.

  Connor wasn’t so lucky. His body slipped through the slim space between the shuttle and deck’s edge. Jackie’s hand grabbed his, and for a split second he hung suspended in air. Then his fingers slipped free. All Connor’s eyes could focus on was Jackie’s face, a look of supreme helplessness upon it, as the man started to fall away from the hovering shuttle.

  Chapter 19:

  There was a sense of non-being. He wasn’t sure of who he was or even what he was. He couldn’t even conceive an abstract thought. A dark limbo was his world, his life. There was nothing else to him.

  He had no idea how long he floated in that limbo, but then he wasn’t really capable of understanding the passage of time. Slowly, so slowly, his undefined world started to change. The darkness faded into a muted glow, a new world of soft, indeterminate light.

  Soon, he became aware of even more sensations. He came to comprehend a sound and feeling working in perfect rhythm. A heartbeat. His heartbeat. In time, he also came to realize he had extremities and could feel a warm pressure against them.

  Something distant came to him, something his ravaged mind recognized as sound. He knew this sound somehow. Knew it should be familiar. But the sound was incomprehensible, dissonant. It was too hollow and thin to be understood but still bore a growing importance that couldn’t be ignored.

  He focused on the sound. That hollow, distant echo became his new world. He fought for that world, strove to reach that inexplicably important sensation. Slowly, so slowly, the sound started to take form. It became something he recognized. A single word.

  “Connor?”

  With the sound of his name, all that was Connor came crashing back to him. He remembered teaching Pre-Apocalyptic studies at New London University before the Ka’Rathi invasion. He remembered taking refuge from the rampaging aliens at the terraforming station of New Kathmandu where he met Charisma, and the eventual Ka’Rathi attack that necessitated his escape with his new family. But most importantly, he remembered how his pride got him here. Where ever here is.

  “Keep trying, Charisma,” said another familiar voice. Masculine this time with a gentle Arabic accent. “The neuro-sensor’s reading theta waves. He’s conscious.”

  Slowly his eyes pulled open, as though they had to lift the weight of the world to do so. Charisma stood on the floor below him about ten feet away in a barely lit room. She wore a white smock and a look of thinly disguised worry. Dr. Dawud stood behind her, wearing a matching smock and carefully monitored a screen that displayed his vitals.

  She was hazy, as though he were seeing her through a discolored, dirty pane of glass. After a few moments Connor’s befuddled mind finally understood the origins of the strange sensations that affected his vision and hearing. He was suspended naked in a tank of thick, viscous liquid that pressed against his body. It tasted foul and gave a strangely heavy sensation in his lungs. Viewed through the disgusting goo, everything seemed to have a sickly greenish-yellow hue.

  Connor wanted to speak, tried desperately to say something, anything, to Charisma. But even if he had the energy, he wasn’t sure if his vocal chords would work in the thick liquid. All he could do was hang in the ten-foot-tall cylindrical tank and stare at Charisma.

  “It’s ok, Connor,” she said. Her voice sounded mechanical and diluted from the outside of the pod. “You’re in a bio-regeneration pod. We’re keeping you in a coma while the nanites in the bio-plasm rebuild your body. But don’t worry. You’re going to be fine, and soon you’ll be up and moving again. We’ll make sure to wake you up for visitors whenever we can. Ok?”

  Connor couldn’t respond. He just blinked his eyes, watching Dr. Dawud pressing various buttons on the console before the world faded away again.

  He wasn’t sure how long he was kept suspended in that foul liquid, but he had numerous visits. Charisma came often, telling him about new happenings with the ship and crew. Dr. Frasier was by almost as much, talking about everything and anything including the fact that Heyerdahl hadn’t been seen much. Because
of the trauma from Sanctuary, he only left his quarters for work or therapy. He’d all but become a ghost.

  His other friends like Tejeda, Lavi, and McKay dropped by occasionally to share their own new events and keep him company. Even Colonel Bradley and Captain Yuji dropped by once to gush about his wondrous sacrifice. Because of the information they brought back, a combined force of Fleet and CPF personnel returned to Sanctuary and liberated several key ships. Colonel Bradley seemed so impressed he made a cryptic promise to Connor about some reward once he was on his feet.

  Jackie and Akshay dropped by a few times. Somehow, Connor wasn’t surprise at Jackie’s flippant and irreverent attitude. His lude teasing seemed natural as was his irreverent jokes about the rest of the ship and crew. Akshay never said much other than to give a half-hearted wave or just say “hey”, although once he did show off his reattached fingers.

  Sometime during the parade of visits, he’d remembered his friend was gravely wounded. With each visitor, Connor desperately hoped for some news about Wild Bill. But the disgusting liquid completely neutralized his vocal chords. He’d often mouth the name ‘Wild Bill’, but his visitors always pretended to misunderstand or found a reason to change the subject. Each time he was awoken, he’d do everything he could to beg for information about his friend. But there was never a mention of the Texan.

  Until the last visit.

  When Connor’s coma was lifted and his consciousness finally focused again, Jackie and Akshay were in the room as one of the civilian med-techs was working the controls of Connor’s world. Jackie, obviously taken with the med-tech’s beauty and caramel colored skin, was smiling and chatting incessantly at her. The communication system of the tank was turned off so Connor couldn’t hear what was being said, but the woman’s shy smile hinted at his success.

  When the young woman did finally turn on the communication system, her demeanor had changed. Her voice had an edge of doubt in it.

  “But I’m not supposed to leave the controls unattended,” she said. There was a distinct look of worry on her face.

  “There haven’t been any problems yet, have there?” Jackie asked. She shook her head. “The system’s completely automated. All you really have to do is babysit. I think he can go without that for five minutes. We just need a bit of guy-talk.”

  The woman still had doubt written all over her face.

  “I know you have a great responsibility,” Jackie said while giving her an almost fatherly smile. He reached a hand to her shoulder to reinforce their connection. “But think of it from my man’s position. It’s been months, and each of his visits are chaperoned by medical personnel. He’s not had a chance to really connect with his friends without someone watching over his shoulder. And he’s naked in that goo with his gear out for all to see. He has no dignity. All we want is five minutes with Connor. Five minutes to try to create something of what his life used to be.”

  The med-tech still had doubt, but her eyes kept flitting between Connor and Jackie.

  “What if it was you, youngster?” Jackie asked, his voice so quiet that it was almost inaudible. “What if it was you in that liquid? With all the world staring at your naked body. All these months and you are never able to have time between just you and your friends?”

  “No. I’m sorry,” she said turning back to the console. “I just can’t. If I do I’m fired.”

  “I’m afraid we’ll have to insist.” Jackie grabbed the woman’s elbow, then placed a hand in her back and propelled her toward Akshay who redirected her momentum into the hallway. The woman was staggering, trying desperately to keep her feet, as Akshay closed and locked the bulkhead door behind her.

  Akshay moved to the window in the door, looking left and right, as the woman raced back and pounded on the transparent polymer window, shouting. Satisfied the med-tech was the only real threat outside, he turned and nodded to Jackie.

  “Connor,” Jackie said. “The others don’t want you told about Sergeant Carter. They think the strain will be too much for you. But we believe a person should be in charge of their own destiny.” Connor looked away from Jackie to Akshay who looked back to them at just that moment. When their eyes met, Akshay nodded his agreement before turning back to watch the hall. “One should be able to choose for themselves what direction their life takes.” Jackie continued, his voice lowered meaningfully. “Even if that direction is a risk. I believe you are a man who would want to know. Feel free to blink if I’m wrong.”

  Jackie was careful to wait a handful of seconds for Connor’s reaction. Connor was careful not to blink.

  “As I thought,” Jackie said. He smiled, but it was a sad regretful smile. “Both you and Sergeant Carter were badly wounded in the firefight. Once we got to your ship in orbit, it took almost a week to rendezvous with the Pegasus. Ms. Adams is an exceptional surgeon, and anyone else would have lost both of you at the very start. She managed to keep both of you alive for almost four days. In the end, though, she was running out of whatever supplies she was using for that miracle. She had enough to save one. Charisma chose you. We had Sergeant Carter’s funeral almost two months ago.” He shook his head at the pain on Connor’s face. “I’m sorry.”

  “Trouble,” Akshay said. His voice was calm, as though he were ordering a coffee from the commissary.

  Connor could see a pair of security volunteers working the locking mechanism in the hallway, along with Charisma pushing them to work faster. Seconds later the door hissed open. The two security volunteers rushed at Jackie and Akshay, left hands extended toward the men, right hands on their sidearm.

  “Connor, I’m so sorry!” Charisma said. Her voice was quavering in a combination of worry for him and anger at the two men now in custody. “You weren’t supposed to know. Just relax and we’ll put you back to sleep.”

  Betrayal born from not being told about his friend made his stomach twist and roil. For once, Connor was glad for the coma, glad he didn’t have to hear any more of her words as his world faded into oblivion.

  Chapter 20:

  It was just under a couple weeks before Connor was awoken from the coma, or so he was told. He couldn’t really tell while he was in that foul liquid. But when they did deign to wake him he was out of the goo and laying on a table. He’d seen his reflection in one of the polished cabinets and was revolted at how frail and thin that rehabilitation chamber made him.

  Once out of the chamber, the medical staff considered him healthy enough to receive unrestricted visitors. Jackie and Akshay dropped by to introduce the family members he’d help to rescue from Paxton.

  Jackie’s sister Sandra shared his height, and his niece Aisha looked like she might as well in a few years. Both were beautiful with a wicked sense of humor. Aisha smiled at Connor as she presented him with a ‘get well’ bracelet made from old, brightly colored wiring she’d braided for him. He couldn’t help but smile back at her as he cinched it onto his wrist. Akshay introduced his daughter Simi, who couldn’t have been more different from her father. While Akshay was massive and appeared surly, his daughter was short and wiry, with a sweet smile. Her eyes twinkled with intelligence, although she was shy around people she didn’t know. All three ladies professed their undying gratitude, the two men also sharing theirs in their own way irreverent way.

  He also had a visit from the two women they’d carried throughout Paxton’s ship. The blonde introduced herself as Elizabeth Reynolds, wife to the late Captain of the Celeste. She introduced the brunette as Lise Reynolds, the former captain’s sister. Elizabeth did all the speaking, promising to repay him for his sacrifice someday. Lise didn’t speak at all, but she managed a grateful nod.

  Others showed in the beginning, his usual collection of people. But his experience in Sanctuary formed scars that the rehabilitation chamber couldn’t mend. He didn’t tell any of his friends how betrayed he felt by not being told of Wild Bill. That it came from two people who were almost strangers hurt more than he could ever describe. It shook his faith in those he
once trusted implicitly. Charisma, especially, he felt betrayed by and sometimes couldn’t bring himself to even look at her.

  As an introvert, Connor’s trauma drove him to push people away as he foundered under the weight of his broken mind. His usual attitude, while polite, couldn’t be considered friendly. One by one, most of his friends stopped visiting. But Charisma and Elizabeth felt a responsibility to help from love or gratitude and refused to leave him alone while he was recovering.

  After Connor was finally able to leave the medical bay, he hid in his quarters whenever he could. For him, his televids were more than the simple entertain they were for everyone else. They were his escape. When Connor did leave his quarters, it was almost always for a physical therapy appointment to recover his lost muscle mass. Fighting to regain his body helped him to process his frustration as he struggled to come to terms with what happened.

  Connor barely recognized the people he used to know. They just weren’t the people he’d become so familiar with. He knew them, and yet, for some reason, they were just empty shadows. Cardboard cutouts of family and friends. They used to represent safety, happiness, love, trust, companionship, and more. But after Sanctuary they were just hollow vessels. They carried nothing for him, and he had nothing for them.

  As hard as Connor tried, he couldn’t avoid others completely. Colonel Bradley’s ‘reward’, as he called it, was to act as liaison between him and the newly formed civilian provisional government that had formed during his recovery. The colonel told Connor that the new Council of Civilian Oversight insisted that he take the position. Greater responsibility, and therefore greater visibility, the colonel had gone on to say. Better chance for advancement in the Civilian Security Forces, the new and official name for the security volunteers. He’d given Connor a month to recover before reporting to the Council.