Evolution

by R S Penney

  He had seen Larani Tal before, of course, but he had never had the pleasure of her company. The woman was tall and slender with a thin face and black hair that she wore pulled back in a bun. He had never told anyone this, but Larani gave him hope for the future of the human race. Here was concrete proof that a black woman could ascend to one of the most influential positions in the galaxy.

  Larani stood with hands clasped behind her back, staring blankly at nothing at all. “Good afternoon,” she said, nodding once. “I regret that I have been unable to join you today, but matters on Leyria require my attention.”

  Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

  Harry stood in front of the wall with his arms crossed, frowning at the hologram. She'd be better off to just say it out loud, he thought to himself. Tip-toe around the point, and everyone will assume it's a big deal.

  He knew the rumor of course; Ben – a young man that Harry had come to respect – had been attacked by a Justice Keeper on Leyria. A Justice Keeper who professed open allegiance to Slade. The higher ups on Station Twelve tried their best to keep things quiet, but you could tease out information if you knew where to look.

  Working among the Justice Keepers wasn't all that different from working in a police station; people talked – usually in places where they thought they could relax. Spend a few hours reading a newspaper in the Nova Cafe, and you would hear things.

  The hologram of Larani stood tall and prim with a big fake smile on her face. “We have come far together,” she went on. “And we will go even further. Today, we renew our commitment to the protection of Earth and the preservation of its diverse cultures.”

  A few people clapped at that.

  Harry closed his eyes, turning his face up to the afternoon sun. He delighted in the warmth of its caress. The preservation of Earth's cultures, he thought. Even when most of them stand at odds with everything Leyrians believe in?

  It was clear that Larani was not the sort of person who excelled at giving speeches. Her posture was stiff, rigid, and she glared at anything in front of her as if she thought she would be fending off a tiger attack at any moment. “In the last few years, I have had the good fortune to meet the two Justice Keepers who best symbolize the alliance between our two worlds.

  “Leana Lenai, one of Leyria's finest, stands among you today. As the first person from our world to set foot on yours, her name will be remembered for generations to come.” Technically, the first Leyrian to set foot on Earth – so far as anyone knew – was Denario Tarse; no one wanted to acknowledge that. “And Jack Hunter. As the first person from your world to accept a symbiont, he has also earned a place in the annals of history. Their friendship, trust and cooperation – their ability to forge an alliance in spite of radically different backgrounds – represent the union between our two peoples.”

  More applause.

  “It is with renewed optimism that we move forward,” Larani went on. “This past year has not been easy: terrors wrought by those who would divide us, betrayals by those we should have trusted most. Today, we stand proudly together and announce, 'We will not be divided! We will not back down!”

  The crowd cheered.

  Larani bowed her head to them. “I am honoured to count you all among my peers,” she said. “On this Friendship Day, let us remember that we stand united, one and all.”

  The hologram vanished.

  In the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Jena coming up beside him in a white skirt and a blue blouse that she left untucked. She directed a tight-lipped grimace at the spot where the hologram was, then nodded once. “The usual talking points,” she said. “Larani is one of the sharpest people I've ever met, but ask her to address a crowd, and you'll get a speech that works so hard to avoid offending anyone, it's practically a tautology.”

  “You didn't like it?”

  “I didn't feel much of anything one way or another; that's the point.”

  The applause picked up again when Jack strode up to the podium in that untucked shirt of his. He took a position behind the lectern, gripping the sides with both hands and peering out at the crowd like a hawk searching for a field mouse. “Well, then,” Jena murmured. “This should be interesting.”

  Gabi felt a stab of anxiety as she watched her boyfriend lean over the lectern and run that wolf-like gaze of his over the assembled guests. Jack looked like a principal that was about to lecture a group of rowdy students. Not good. It didn't help one bit that she had no clue what he intended to say.

  Jack closed his eyes, visibly calming himself. “Good afternoon,” he said with a curt nod. “I wish I could say I'm happy to be here, but Justice Keepers are encouraged toward honesty. And as Larani said, it's been a hard year.”

  Next to her, Toral shifted his weight from one foot to the other and scrunched up his face. “He's going to say something inflammatory, isn't he?”

  Gabi winced, hanging her head in frustration. “Probably,” she said, nodding slowly. “It's his way. Jack believes that the only way to be honest is to force yourself to confront the things you least want to acknowledge.”

  Lifting his chin, Jack studied the crowd with those fierce blue eyes of his. “Most of you know how my speeches usually go,” he went on. “Greeting, joke, brief synopsis of what being a Justice Keeper means to me…Discussion on the importance of bringing Earth into the galactic community, random 80's pop culture reference and finally a well-timed mic drop.”

  Several people laughed.

  “Not today.”

  Clenching his teeth with a hiss, Jack looked down at the lectern. “I come here to apologize for failing you,” he said. “Because that's what every single person who carries a Nassai has done.

  “The Justice Keepers have a well-deserved reputation for bringing peace and order to all the worlds under Leyrian jurisdiction, but over time, we have become complacent. We were so sure of our own moral superiority that we failed to take action when traitors were hiding right under our noses. We allowed ourselves to believe that no one who had bonded a Nassai could ever violate the basic principles on which our organization was founded. This past year, we learned the price for that arrogance.”

  Murmurs from the crowd made Gabi feel uneasy; clearly this wasn't what they were expecting. She looked around to find several of the Senior Directors standing along the wall to her left, all frowning at Jack. There would be consequences for this; she had no doubt about that.

  Toral bit his lip as he studied Jack, squinting as if he wasn't entirely sure what was going on. “What's Hunter doing?” he asked, shaking his head. “A little more rhetoric like that, and we might have a riot on our hands.”

  Jack clasped his hands together behind his back, then bowed his head like a child who had disappointed his parents. “I am sorry,” he said. “I let you down. We all let you down, but I hope that we can make it right.”

  Silence was his only answer.

  “In order to do better,” Jack went on, “we need to begin asking ourselves the hard questions. We need to be willing to look in the mirror and acknowledge the times when we don't like what we see.”

  Companion have mercy! This was going to earn him another suspension! Why did that bother her so much? It wasn't her career on the line. Could it be that Jack's eagerness to leap head first into the Bleakness itself proved beyond any and all doubt that building a life with her wasn't his first priority?

  But then, why would it be?

  He was a Justice Keeper; as a rule, they didn't settle down with anybody. Instead, they lived hectic lives full of danger, and if they managed to avoid being shot, stabbed or vaporized, they would eventually die a very premature death in their mid-fifties. She had known this before pursuing a relationship with Jack. So why was she suddenly feeling so skeptical of their future?

  Maybe because it's not sudden at all, a quiet voice whispered. Maybe you've known all along that this couldn't last, but you didn't want to break the poor man's heart. Hardly a good reason to continue pursuing a relationshi
p.

  Toral stood with his arms crossed, scowling down at himself. “Such arrogance,” he said, shaking his head. “The man stands before us, on a day that should inspire unity, and presumes to lecture his superiors on their failings?”

  “He's a very passionate person.”

  “Is it true you're dating him?”

  Red-cheeked with chagrin, Gabi shut her eyes and nodded to him. “It's true,” she said in a voice so soft it barely registered in her own ears. “He's a good man, Toral: kind, noble, willing to sacrifice himself.”

  Toral looked up at the sky with lips pursed, blinking slowly as he considered her words. “I'm sure,” he murmured. “But doesn't it bother you that he has so little regard for his own colleagues?”

  That wasn't what bothered her. No…What bothered her was the unpleasant reminder that she and Jack had never been destined to settle down together with a small family of their own. Children and grandchildren weren't in the cards if she stayed with him, and she had to admit that she wanted both.

  Jack was speaking again – he had been for some time – and glaring daggers at just about everyone present, but she had to admit that she wasn't really listening. Right then, she was too busy trying to fend off her own heartbreak.

  Jack leaned over the lectern with his arms folded, directing a smile at the people in front of him. “We have a choice,” he said. “We can keep pretending that nothing is wrong and hope it doesn't get worse, or we can do what Keepers do best.”

  He waited for them to ask themselves the inevitable question.

  “We can take a stand against corruption,” Jack said firmly. “We can acknowledge our shortcomings and work to correct them.” Before anyone could say one word, he spun on his heel and marched off the stage with the fury of a hurricane.

  “Excuse me,” Gabi said. “I need to see to a few things.”

  The sun beat down from a clear, blue sky, shining down on Bishopgate Street – two lanes of black pavement that ran through a corridor between tightly-packed buildings of gray bricks. The odd skyscraper rose up every to dwarf all lesser structures with sunlight glinting off every window.

  Leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, Arin felt a little warm in black pants and a matching t-shirt. His dark, angular face was coated with sweat, and he had to resist the urge to wipe it away.

  The nearest skyscraper – a building of over thirty stories that stretched toward the open sky – was currently home to some four dozen Justice Keepers who had come here to celebrate Leyria's fruitful alliance with Earth. That alliance had already begun to crack, and if Arin was successful, one of those fissures would soon become a gaping hole.

  He had been born on Leyria. After years of dreaming about the prospect of becoming a Keeper himself, he had finally worked up the nerve to ask to be tested. His first contact with a Nassai had been nothing short of disastrous. The symbiont rejected him after only a few seconds. Keepers did not offer one a second chance to bond a Nassai.

  Clenching his teeth, Arin squeezed his eyes shut. “Their mistake,” he whispered, shaking his head in disgust. “Bending to the will of the Nassai has only resulted in weak, close-minded Keepers who cannot see their order crumbling around them.”

  His words drew the attention of a young woman in a blue sundress, a pretty young lady with fair skin and blonde hair that she wore tied back in a clip. She paused right in front of him, casting a glance in his direction.

  No one liked people who talked to themselves.

  Thrusting out his chin, Arin squinted at her. “Something I can do for you?” he said in a voice as smooth as the finest silk. “If you're hoping to ogle handsome men, perhaps you should get yourself a good Internet connection.”

  The woman scoffed and moved on.

  Arin smiled, then bowed his head to stare down at himself. In time, he thought, his eyebrows rising. All in good time. When Slade is finished, the day will come when no one will dare laugh at us.

  Of course, for that to happen, he had to complete one very important task. The first of many, but that didn't make success any less vital. He watched people shuffling up the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Businessmen in suits, teenage girls in shorts and tank-tops, the odd senior citizen: they all moved with a purpose. So far, Arin had seen a few Keepers making their way to the party, but they were always in small groups. After months of training with Slade, he had a firm confidence in his own abilities, but he did not trust himself to handle more than one. Not yet, anyway.

  What he really needed was a straggler.

  Closing his eyes, Arin turned his face up to the sun. He delighted in the feeling of warmth on his skin. Soon now, he assured himself. One of them will leave early for one reason or another.

  Then his moment would come.

  Dressed in white pants and a matching jacket over a light blue shirt, Glin Karon made his way up the sidewalk with his head down. A light prickle of sweat on his brow made him aware of the day's heat – this planet could produce some truly intense weather – and he reminded himself that he would much rather have stayed aboard Station Two, tending the lilacs he had planted in the garden.

  People shuffled up the sidewalk toward him, some nearly mowing him down as they slipped past. In the distance, he saw a glittering spire that stretched toward the clear blue sky. That, no doubt, was his destination. After exiting the Liverpool Street Station, he had wandered for nearly fifteen minutes before getting his bearings. He was late. By now, Larani would have given her address.

  The store-front windows of shops to his right looked in on small cafes, clothing shops and the first-floor of what Earthers considered to be an office. One glance made him hiss in contempt. From what little he could see through the tinted glass, they kept their employees trapped in little boxes.

  He continued up the street.

  The cars on his left – each one oriented so that it was driving into the distance behind him – had formed a queue, and now there was quite a bit of cursing from one man who drove with his window open. Glin tried to ignore it. He had absolutely no interest in hearing one fool shout at the man in front of-

  Something twisted spacetime.

  He felt it like a wrongness off to his left, and as he turned to see who had caused the disruption, he caught sight of a man in black leaping over two lanes of traffic, landing on the roof of a red car.

  The man jumped, somersaulting through the air, then uncurling to land hard on the sidewalk just a short distance away. Tall and lithe, he had a dark face with hollow-cheeks and a pointed chin. His hair was cut so short it was little more than stubble. Glin suddenly felt very uneasy. This was no Keeper.

  The man whirled around to face him, pressing a hand to his chest and bowing low. “Do I have the good fortune to be addressing Glin Karon?” he asked, straightening. “One of the most esteemed Keepers of the last thirty years?”

  Glin lifted his chin, squinting at the other man. “Who are you?” he asked, shaking his head. “More importantly, how did you acquire your symbiont? You're one of Slade's twisted creations, aren't you?”

  The other man replied with a wide grin, bowing his head in a gesture of respect. “I am called Arin,” he said, taking a few steps forward. “I must say that I take exception to your comment. There is nothing twisted about me.”

  Glin crossed his arms as he backed away, frowning at the other man. “The creature you bonded was broken, tortured until it was willing to accept a host such as you.” Just thinking about it made Glin nauseous.

  Arin turned his head to direct that smile at one of the shop windows. He seemed fascinated by the people inside. “You see them in there?” he asked. “One day, they will look to men like me to protect them.”

  “It seems you're delusional as well.”

  “Yours is the old order, Karon,” Arin spat. “Mine is the new. The Nassai are a tool to serve human ends. That is why the Inzari left them for us to find. And yet you allow them to dictate who among us they will accept?”

  Gl
in felt his jaw drop. Clamping a hand over his mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut. “They are a sentient species!” he growled. “Your attitude toward living beings who think and feel proves you have no business carrying a symbiont.”

  “You won't carry yours much longer,” Arin said, stroking a knife that he wore on his belt. He strode toward Glin like a whirlwind toward a rickety old farmhouse. “I plan to relieve you of it today.”

  “I don't want to fight you.”

  Tossing his head back, Arin grinned up at the sky and trembled with soft laughter. “How amusing,” he replied. “You act as if you have a choice in the matter. How long has it been since you've been forced to employ your combat skills, Glin? Do you think they may have atrophied over the long-”

  Glin threw a punch.

  The other man's hand came up, striking his wrist and knocking his arm aside. Four dark knuckles collided with Glin's face, and his vision was filled with bright silvery flecks. His opponent spun for a back-kick.

  A boot to the chest made Glin double over and back up along the sidewalk, gasping and wheezing the whole time. He could still sense the other man's silhouette. Arin came running at him.

  The man jumped for a high kick.

  Glin stepped to the left just in time to watch his opponent land right beside him. He turned and shoved with Keeper strength. Arin went stumbling sideways, colliding with the front window of a shop.

  Glass shattered and the customers inside shouted, but Arin grabbed a few shards in one hand. He flung them, augmenting each piece with Bent Gravity, sending them flying at deadly speeds.

  Glin fell over backward, catching himself by slapping both hands down upon the concrete. Thin shards of glass flew over his stomach, chest and face, some coming close enough to rip the fabric of his shirt.

  Arin stood in front of the broken window with a bright smile on his face, his skin glistening with sweat. “You Keepers,” he said, shaking his head. “You are the old; we are the new. It's time for your decadence to be cut away.”