by Drew Avera
“Who are these people?” She asked through staggered gasps. Terror caused her heart to race, and she wanted to look away. But how do you close your eyes to your thoughts?
“This is the future, Anki. This is what will come if they find me.”
“Find you? I thought you were dead?” in her mind, Anki looked at Carista, focusing on the girls’ face and not the war waging behind her. She realized as she focused that she and Carista stood on a moon much like the one where she met Brendle. It could only be a coincidence, she thought, or it could be many moons are similar. When she canted her head, she saw the crashed Luthian transport she used to escape the Seratora and she knew it was one and the same. “What’s going on?”
“The beginning and the end of the war is here for you,” Carista replied.
“I’m to come back here?”
Carista shook her head, her innocent eyes never departing Anki’s gaze. “No. You must not return here, or you will die. You must not enter the final battle.”
Anki felt Carista’s fear flood into her, matching her own. “I still don’t understand. How can I avoid fate?”
A tear fell from Carista’s eye, reflecting the light of the battle. Anki could see the flames of destruction in the single tear streaking down the young girl’s face. “You can’t avoid fate.”
More confused than before, Anki sucked in a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “I can’t do both,” she replied, “I can’t avoid coming to this war if I am meant to be here.”
Carista pulled her hand away, transferring them back to the distant planet in which they originated. “Who you think is your enemy, is your friend. Who you think will be your friend, is your enemy. Do no fall victim to their manipulations. The future of the galaxy depends on your making the right decision.”
“And what is the right decision?” Anki asked.
Carista turned, looking out over the horizon. Softly she whispered, “That is why I’m sorry. Because I can’t tell you.”
“Can you at least tell me who the woman was? She had a gun to your head. Is she part of this?”
Carista nodded. “She is, but I don’t know who she is. I just see her every time I come to this place.”
Anki looked around, noticing the clouds rolling away and peace restoring to the landscape. “And what is this place?”
“The lost world.”
31
Hespha
Seeing T’anoi’s grave did little to curb the emotions flooding through her mind. She craved closure, one that would not be necessary had she not given into the temptation that power over CERCO provided. For all his faults, T’anoi did what was right for their people, not just the corporation he headed. Was it possible he saw something she didn’t recognize until it was too late? Was she responsible for killing a man who was her biggest advocate? Based on how alone she felt now, the answer had to be “yes.”
“I’m sorry, T’anoi. I thought we were doing the right thing. I thought that, by seizing control of CERCO, we could take the battle to Greshia and defend our world against their threat. I thought you were dragging your heels on developing the weapon.
“I thought a lot of things.
“But now I see the truth, or at least a version of it I did not notice before. The board is sending me away to find the rest of the clones we believe existed during your development of Carista. If I find them, who will control them? If I turn them over to the board, I have no guarantee that they will honor their word and allow me to run CERCO. If I refuse to turn them over, I know I will not have control of CERCO as I will be declaring war on the corporation we helped build. I just don’t know what to do.”
She stood over the gravesite and felt an ushering of wind flowing through her hair. She doubted it was an answer, but as the wind kicked up, a quartz crystal display on his tombstone fell over, drawing her attention to it. As she bent down to pick it up, she felt a slight ridge formed on the otherwise smooth surface. Looking closer, she recognized the line went completely around it, giving the illusion of a crack, but perfectly smooth.
“What is this?” She tugged lightly on both ends, pulling the two pieces apart and finding a tiny data chip attached to the center of the quartz crystal. Her heart fluttered as she realized she’d found something. What it was, she was unsure, but she knew one way to find out.
“If this is an answer from beyond the grave, then I’m going to give up drinking,” she said to the tombstone with T’anoi’s face embossed on the surface. It was the closest thing to looking him in the face she had. “Also, thank you.”
Hespha walked back to the vehicle and climbed in, immediately grabbing the mobile computer mounted on the console and inserting the data chip into a reader. As she waited for the quartz to be read, she remembered her late-night revelation regarding the pills, how two sides of a capsule contained something inside. She wondered if it was her subconscious drawing conclusions on something she already knew. Regardless, as the data began populating on her screen, she knew whatever the crystal contained was bigger than her. It was something that could potentially change CERCO’s future.
A prompt screen asking for a password appeared and Hespha typed in each password she knew T’anoi used; birthdays, historical events, even names of projects she knew he had worked on, but none of them unlocked the file. She blew a strand of hair out of her face and bent her neck, causing the vertebrae to pop, relieving the stress building up in her shoulders. The chronic issue plagued her for most of her adult life, and coping with it was as frustrating as narrowing down T’anoi’s passwords. She finally reached the end of his known usage and moved into common events they both shared; her birthday, anniversary, but none worked until she remembered a date that still haunted her that they both shared, the date of her miscarriage.
Typing in the date pained her emotionally. She hated thinking of what she and T’anoi lost. In many ways, it was the beginning of the end. But as the screen changed, it was also what allowed her access to the files. “I can’t believe you, T’anoi,” she said as she scrolled down the screen containing numerous links. Most of them were generic; financials, properties, but towards the bottom a name appeared that caught her eye. “Bethanie”. It was going to be the name of their daughter.
Hespha’s finger hovered over the link for several moments. What she would see gave her pause. Why would T’anoi have a file named after their deceased child? It was years ago, before the weapon project fell into their laps to distract them from the pain of their loss. Before the project tore them apart. Maybe that’s what I’m missing, she thought as she clicked the link and held her breath.
32
Ilium
Ilium walked into the ward room as the third bell chimed. He meticulously maintained the same schedule from day to day, barring any unforeseen circumstances. He found comfort in it, much like a child found comfort in the consistency of having both parents around. Once that is disrupted, inevitable chaos forms, at least in Ilium’s mind. He considered himself lucky that his schedule went unhindered since taking command of the King Slayer. Of course, the latest development regarding Commander Quino threatened his streak, but he was optimistic that everything would work out. Especially since he put Stavis in charge of the investigation. If anyone on the ship would do what was necessary, it is Lieutenant Stavis, he thought.
“Good evening, sir,” Stavis said as she stood from her seat at the table at his approach.
“Good evening, please sit,” Ilium replied, feeling uncomfortable with the extra effort she put into displaying respect. Stavis did the same with Captain Crexon when he was still alive. It was just her way, but Ilium could not help feeling like he did not deserve it. “I thought Commander Quino would be here already.” What he did expect, though, was punctuality from a subordinate. Even if that subordinate was number two in command of a fleet ship.
“He notified me that he is running behind.”
Ilium lifted an eyebrow. “It’s not like he was on the bridge running the ship. What, did
he have trouble finding a place to hide his bomb?” shaking his head, Ilium felt a rant on the verge of fluttering from his tongue. “I swear, some people think the universe revolves around them.”
Stavis’s eyes widened as he spoke nonchalantly about what they found. But he soon realized it wasn’t his words, but movement in the reflection of her eyes that prompted the response. He turned to see Quino walking towards them casually. The gait of someone without a sense of urgency. Someone who lacks military disciple, Ilium thought as he turned back, leaning towards Stavis.
“Do you think he heard me?” Ilium whispered. Stavis shook her head. Thank the gods.
“Captain. Lieutenant,” Quino said as he pulled his seat out from the table. “I’m sorry I’m late. I lost track of time walking around the ship. She’s much larger than any I’ve previously been on.”
“Yes, I imagine she is,” Ilium replied. “But, you found your way here, so I guess that means I don’t have to send a search party after you.” He fought to keep the sarcasm at a minimum, not wanting to trigger any hostilities before the investigation ended. If anything, Ilium wanted to milk the bastard for as long as possible, to delay the inevitable. Tossing his sorry ass out into the dark.
Quino laughed. “Not yet, I didn’t venture too far. I stayed on the same level as my state room for the tour. I figured it would be easier to find my way back if I didn’t have to navigate any ladder wells.”
Fucking amateur. “That’s not a bad decision,” Ilium replied. “My first time on a ship, I found myself spending the night in an enlisted berthing because I had no idea where I was. The next day I asked a sailor for help. I was embarrassed and I’m sure he thought I was an idiot.”
“As the enlisted often do when we make a mistake,” Quino interjected with a smirk.
Ilium nodded. “Indeed. At least I was taught how to find my way around with the bulkhead maps in the passageways. Once I learned how to read them, I’ve had an easier time adjusting to new ships. With that said, I still keep to the same proximity for my daily routine. I think I’ve only gone down to engineering twice since coming on board.”
“Into the bowels of hell? I’m not ready for that yet.” Quino leaned back in his seat and looked around. “What are they serving today?”
“It’s a special occasion, so they are serving Gru and Mar to celebrate our new XO,” Stavis replied happily. Ilium looked at her, impressed by how she could mask what she felt for the man, knowing he was up to no good. Of course, explaining his situation to her seemed to bring her on to his side, but if she was that good at hiding her thoughts about Quino, Ilium wondered if she could do the same to him. He shook the paranoia from his mind and rejoined the conversation.
“Absolutely. Your first meal as XO must be a good one. We all know it will be downhill from here,” Ilium joked, but a sliver of truth hung from his words. “At least the Mar will be cold, instead of that lukewarm piss a buddy of mine snuck into Officer Candidate School. I still don’t know how I downed it before the instructor showed up.” His comment elicited a laugh from Stavis, but Quino was strangely unfazed by it.
“Well, I guess I should look forward to the ride and the Mar. Thank you,” Quino replied with a grin. “And yes, Officer school was a drag.”
Ilium smiled at Stavis, her knowing eyes looking back into his. We got him, he thought. He doesn’t know it yet, but his ass is mine.
“Yes. Yes, it was,” Ilium said as a serviceman delivered three frosted glasses of Mar to the table.
“Good evening, Captain,” the man said, placing the cold beverage in front of Ilium.
The captain looked up, grasping the glass with his hand and nodding at the young man. “Yes, it is. Thank you.” He turned to Quino, lifting his glass. “To our new XO. May he not find himself lost on his own ship.”
“Here. Here.” Stavis replied, lifting her own glass.
Quino smiled dumbly and lifted his own. “At least not before I make it back to my stateroom tonight. My first day was a doozy.”
Ilium watched as the other man sipped his Mar. Indeed, it was, he thought.
33
Brendle
Entering atmosphere on a ship the size of the Replicade felt like coming to a complete stop, even when the planet was wholly artificial and nothing more than a disk orbiting a nearby star. According to Pilot, Pila served as a military base during the early period of the war. Named for the world in which it served, the orbiting disk was all that remained of the Pilatians. But knowing history did little for smoothing the ride. Because he was strapped to his chair, Brendle felt himself slamming forward, every bone in his body taking the strain of gravity yanking on him. It made his eyes bulge, so he closed them and hoped to not need vision before the sensation passed. The aggressive vibration emanating through the ship was accompanied by an incessant hum needling through his ears. Try as he might, it was difficult to ignore.
“Is everyone, all right?” He asked into the comm, knowing Deis and Malikea were strapped in elsewhere. It seemed no one liked being on the bridge for these landings, and Brendle could hardly blame them. When you’re that far forward on a ship plummeting towards the surface of a planet, you’re just the first to die when something goes wrong. Albeit, you win the race by mere fractions of a second, but psychologically it paints the bridge in a different light. The goal was to generate enough lift that a massive vessel like the Replicade could fly, because dying in a fiery crash was for amateurs and space pirates. At least that’s what he told himself for a pep talk. The decreasing numbers on the altimeter suggested something else as he gripped the manual control and pulled back, fighting to slow the ship enough to gain control.
“I hate this part,” Deis said, his voice strained.
Me too, Brendle thought. Flying ships was much easier when I had access to transport craft for surface landings. The Replicade is too much sometimes. “It will all be over soon.” His words were more hope than truth.
He moved his fingers along the console, monitoring engine parameters and fuel expenditures. The truth was there was no need to monitor them; the ship was in the best shape it had been since he took the helm, and spending most of their time coasting through the dark, they had almost a full tank of fuel. That was the only good thing, because being this heavy meant the engines had to fight harder to keep the ship aloft. It was a delicate balance where on one side there was living to see another day and on the other, everyone was going to die. The extra fuel just meant more devastation on top of an already shitty day.
Give and take.
“Captain, shall I set a course to the nearest landing pad at a medical facility for Anki’s condition?” Pilot asked.
“Yes, please do,” Brendle replied, thankful to not have to do all the navigating himself. But he did prefer flying the ship himself rather than trusting a computer to maneuver a craft in a situation much more suitable for feel rather than data. Most would think him crazy, but Brendle preferred to think of himself as practical, as in practically insane for doing this manually. If I’m not in control, then who is?
“Course plotted,” Pilot replied.
Brendle felt the gentle shift in heading. Too sharp of a correction could cause the ship to stall, which meant a fiery blaze for everyone on board. It was yet another convenience having an AI perform most of the navigation and flying with such a small crew. Brendle could keep his focus elsewhere, worrying about Anki and pushing the thought of their blazing demise from his mind. “Thank you. What is our ETA?”
“Fifteen minutes at current speed.”
“Are we flying within parameters for this world?”
“Affirmative. I see no need in bringing undue attention to us.”
“Good call,” Brendle replied before keying up the comms again. “All right, guys. We land in fifteen minutes. I’ll let you know when you can unstrap.”
“I suppose the fact you’re talking to us means we’re not dead, yet. Thank you for not killing us,” Deis said, but his voice was hard to read over th
e comm.
“Was that sarcasm?” Brendle asked as a smile stretched across his face. There was something about the stress of cheating death that brought out his wicked sense of humor. Most normal people would probably show more concern, but it wasn’t his style.
“If it makes you feel better, then yes.” This time Brendle heard it and stifled a laugh, knowing Deis would be offended to hear Brendle making a joke of his fear of flying. Never mind the fact the crew lived on a space craft hurtling through the dark in an environment where any mishap could claim their lives. It was landing on other worlds that brought the man’s fears to the surface.
“It was sarcasm, Captain,” Malikea interjected. Brendle could hear the other Lechun man fussing at his husband about the inevitably snide comment, but it didn’t bother Brendle. It was just part of the dynamic of a surface landing with a crew that hated surface landings. He wished he could make it easier, but wishing was just laziness talking, so he pushed the thought away.
“I’ll let it slide,” Brendle replied with a grin, cutting off the comm to not have to listen in on the quarrel. “Pilot, can you contact the medical facility to have a transport in place when we touch down?”
“Already done, Captain.”
“Excellent. Is there any change in her condition from the strain of entering atmosphere?”
“Negative. Her stats have not altered in any significant way.”