He looked directly at Bernard. “This is about clearing your name.”
Unexpected but Bernard managed to compose himself. “Slightly. It’s true that opening the next chapter of human history comes with the chance of clearing my family name, but that’s further than Kuiper from the big picture. It’s about exploring further than any human in history. I cannot abide space being ignored because of fear and lies. It’s also, I hope, about finding some answers. The 4,000 dead at CERN and our species deserve more.”
Using his holopad as visual aid, Bernard presented his tale of the retrieved lunar station data and the omnidirectional signal.
When his careful presentation and the joint were finished, Ilya leaned back into a pleasant buzz. The spindly filaments supporting him morphed to accommodate his new position. He was inwardly impressed how far Bernard had gotten, especially since he lacked some key information that Ilya just happened to have.
Keeping his cards close to his chest, he interrupted the calm oasis. “Heard your son’s doing a lot of good work.”
Ilya’s ability to place Easter eggs reminded Bernard of a simpler time. Appreciating the breadcrumbs, he played along. “Yes. He’ll need your help finishing the ship designs. Williams’ math could only get us so far after all. If you come, you’ll get to meet Isaac. I suspect you’ll like him. He reminds me of you in many ways.”
“Then he must be a pain in the ass.”
“Many, not in every way. His imaginative mathematics and practical creativity reminds me a lot of you. However, unlike present company, his discipline is unparalleled.”
“You obviously love him which means I’ve misjudged. You’re not doing this for your name, you’re doing it for his. Okay, but fess up right now; is what you’ve just told me everything we’re risking our lives for? There isn’t anything else?
We. Ours. Interest percolated from Ilya’s candor.
“I’ve told you all I know.”
Ilya scanned him cautiously but found no tell. He laughed. “Well, you can’t go without me there to fix things when everything goes to hell. As long as it doesn’t require indebting ourselves to O.L. or the W.C., I’ll be there. But to be clear, even space flight’s not enticing enough for me to cross that line.”
Ilya seemed to enjoy the change on Bernard’s face.
So that’s the roadblock Ilya will hide behind, his idealism? Or is he just messing with me? To think, I’d complained about Medina.
Bernard snapped at him. “Don’t be so simplistic, Skil. Nothing’s black and white, including your own crusade against your past oppressors.”
“Hm. Sounds like your vague way of saying compromise is inevitable.” Ilya’s eyes narrowed at the hovering chopper. “Bottom line, in this case, compromise means working for them—and they will always screw you. You know they’ll make you take one of their people along. Besides, the Bernard Hubert I remember would never make deals with those who betrayed him.”
Ilya hoped Bernard wouldn’t notice, but he was stalling for time trying madly to figure out what piece was missing from the puzzle. The mission, his son, the ship… what had Bernard promised Angelika? It must be sweet, even if Bernard thought he was getting something sweeter.
Ah, the Mayflower launch.
Likewise stalling, Bernard removed and polished his glasses before responding. “This isn’t the usual scenario and you know it. Of course there are days I want to burn O.L. to the ground for leaving me in the cold, but it’s so much better having them build my ship for me. Once we’re out there, we can do whatever we want, go wherever we please, be whoever we like.”
He eyed the lenses and placed them back on his face. “Come on, man. You were a leader making difficult choices for the greater good. The ethics here are the same—the good far greater.”
Ilya snorted. “Come on yourself, Bernard. It’s not like the Council of Elrond picked my name from a hat for my leadership skills.”
Bernard chuckled. “No, friend halfling, you were chosen for your engineering prowess, intelligence, tenacity, and, frankly, because you’re a wildcard. The fact that you don’t serve the government or big business makes you utterly trustworthy and, hence, more valuable.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on armrests, hands clasped. “Join. Let’s be masters of our fate for a time.”
After a light whistle from the wind, Ilya said. “Fine. I’m in.” He rose, stretched his arms and smirked. “Do tell me, though, when did you realize Angelika didn’t betray you?”
Caught off guard, Bernard froze. In so doing, he gave away his hand.
“There it is.” Ilya nodded. “Like I said, the Bernard I knew wouldn’t go back to anyone who betrayed him. It’s clear you’re the same guy, ergo, you must have realized she didn’t betray you. Something deeper was going on. Ah, don’t worry. You can keep that secret for now, but understand I will want the truth before we pass Jupiter.”
Bernard not only admired the rugged outlaw’s attitude, coupled with brain, sometimes, he downright envied it.
Ilya checked his watch. “The way I see it, you’ll need my help, anyway.”
It was an aloof, curious statement. As much as it nagged at the man who hated uncertainty, the conversation was over. The two men atop the high flat rock faced each other in the late afternoon light and, again, shook hands.
Ilya hauled on his pack, secured a harness, then pressed a hidden button woven and wired into the strap. His radio crackling to life, Ilya again spoke in a smooth voice. “You can come get him now, Phillip.”
“Dr. Hubert? Report mission status.” Commander Williams sounded anxious.
“Mission successful,” Bernard reported.
“Fantastic. We’ll scoop you two up and head back.”
As the helicopter descended, Ilya laughed. Pulling the goggles over his eyes, he whistled a five-note tune. The chairs snapped back into small rods, which he returned to his pack. Facing Bernard, he clasped his shoulders and shouted.
“See you back in town. There are a few things I need to take care of. Tell Phillip to give my best to his wife. That’ll annoy him. Let’s go free the world from itself!”
Bernard tapped a finger to his head. “Two days, Ilya.”
Behind them, the two Peacekeepers jumped from the chopper. Presenting them with two middle fingers, Ilya hurled himself off the edge. The soldiers pushed past Bernard reaching the mesa’s edge just as Ilya’s majestic bronze-colored wingsuit unfurled.
He soared like an eagle, east, back from whence he came, no doubt. Above the sound of the rotors, Bernard heard his laughter echoing amongst the sandstone walls.
What did he mean by, “You’ll need me, anyway?”
An invigorating wind whipping his face, Ilya knew his desert solitude was at an end. He also knew things Bernard did not. This journey on the Nomad would be the perfect time to enact plans of his own.
1 Consul
The elected leader of Moab. The office is similar to a mayor but has broader authority that includes imprisonment, sentencing, command of the police and civilian troops, trade negotiation, treaty creation, educational duties, and engineering appropriation. Ilya O’Connell was the first Consul, serving from 2072 to 2074.
2 NE01 Sector 5 Nanotech Symposium
Largest annual engineering and technology conference in North America that started in the year 2073. Representatives from all major STEM companies participate in four days of presentations, workshops, recruitments, business deals, peer review, and ethical debate.
3 Chokin Regional Science Academy
Founded in 2076, this World Council research institute is named after the Kazakh scientist Shafik Chokin. The Academy is located in Nur-Sultan, the former capital of Kazakhstan, and focuses on material science, nuclear science, kinetics, chemical engineering, eco-mass agriculture, and infrastructure design.
4 Mechataxi
A common Eurasian term for a self-driving car. These came into common use in the year 2075.
5 Neurodigital Interface
/> The theoretical construct that will allow for seamless transition of thought and consciousness from synaptic signals to electronic data. Darren Parsons is the only known publisher on this subject.
6 New Alexandria Library
The largest library in the world constructed in 2075 by the World Council to act as a new bastion of knowledge, translation, and base of operations for the recovery of antiquities stolen during World War III.
Thirteen
The Distant Zones
“Did you hear?!”
“No. What?”
“The Council of Worlds is meeting on Primidious in ten prikes.”
“The COW?”
“Yes, the COW!”
“So? They meet all the time. What’s so special?”
“Rajav, the WHOLE Council is meeting.”
“WHAT? Mikal, are you sure? The full COW hasn’t convened in over two hundred turns.”
Noshing on fried equak1, Mikal answered flatly, “I’m sure.”
They were in esta De u, a corner diner on Neruda 82, in the Liyathin 7 system3. Mikal was a bipedal, blue-haired, silver toned Maruuvean4. A curious breed, Maruuveans were known for their high energy, big mouths, and three stomachs. All three were on display for his Potonian table mate. Watching from eyes in the palms of his hand, the more humanoid Rajav waited as Mikal used the utensil held in his tail to shovel more equaks into his prodigious mouth.
It was exasperating.
“Mikal! Why are they meeting?”
His friend threw a copy of the Starry Prikely at him. “Here.”
Removing it from his face, Rajav saw the headline currently circulating the galaxy: Council of Worlds to Meet in Full: Rumors of Galactic Threat.
Beyond that, the piece was mostly propaganda meant to reinforce the image of the GSA as a peacekeeping organization. As a painter, Rajav tried to read between the lines. Art was more than aesthetic on his home world of Ponton Prime5; it was a chief means of communication.
An ardent follower of the ways the GSA conversed with member planets, he felt he should be able to glean more. It said the Primes arrival at Primidious6 was imminent, meaning they were desperate to control the narrative. Which meant… tides were changing. But how?
“Mikal, interstellar space in this Sector has been quiet for over a hundred turns, at least. Not a peep about any threat. They’re hiding something something big.”
Mikal swallowed a half-equak. “They are a government. What do you expect?”
“True. Still, it feels like more than that. We’ll have to wait and see, I suppose.”
Most who read the piece felt the same creating so much unease. Answers to the unknown threat were demanded but few were available. For the member worlds, the meeting couldn’t come soon enough.
As Rajav and Mikal continued their meal in ignorance, Bor and Pias prepared for their journey to Primidious.
15 Prikes Earlier
Bor barely waited for the office door to close. “How did it go?”
Pias cracked four sets of knuckles. “Not well at all, which means exactly as expected. The evidence gathered from the Nova System has already been distributed to the other EFPs. No doubt you’ve seen the headlines.”
Bor nodded. “The latest reports from Epiko indicate a threefold spike in military chatter.”
Pias continued. “I submitted the formal request to summon the full Council. But, there’s a complication; Kruk’s being taken to Primidious for a full interrogation by the Military Council.”
Bor was livid. “What!?”
Pias raised two of his left arms in a placating gesture. “It was out of my hands. The members of the Investigation Council were planetside. Once they heard your son had mentioned the Loronzon Incident and the Creators in the same breath they became rather… alarmed.”
Bor was silent for a moment. “He understands exactly how dangerous the Creators are. In the heat of the moment, he made a judgement call.”
Unhappy with the response, Pias puffed to his full height and crossed four arms. “And I learned exactly how he made that judgement—using a Prime-level override code to commandeer station sensors. You left that part out.”
Bor paled slightly but stood his ground. “Kruk’s trained to resist psychic probes, but I’m not a complete idiot. Even if he talks, he won’t be able to tell them Odian is alive. You know, the point of compartmentalization.”
“You endangered so much.” Despite his obvious irritation, Pias backed off. “Still, I suppose you’ve protected the larger cause.”
“Exactly. And he gave us a warning, when otherwise we’d have none.” Bor gave him a smile. “Shall we take my ship? It is faster.”
“Faster, true, but since your son’s already such a hot topic, travelling with less attention will be easier in mine.”
“Agreed. The Bridalgo7 it is.”
Pias’s official call for the full Council of Worlds rang a cosmic bell. Communication relays strained bandwidth to accommodate the interstellar talk. Galactic trade dipped ten percent as planets stockpiled resources. Trillions who were usually occupied with their own corner of the universe, suddenly remembered they were part of something larger. Still, while previous, full meetings had been indicators of coming war in much of the GSA, mass conflict was such a distant memory few who still lived remembered.
During the voyage, Pias and Bor, with little sleep, struggled to keep the Nova Incident quiet. Bor scrubbed and jammed comm lines and slanted Sector news. Pias used loyal subordinates to keep data sealed under galactic security protocols —for now.
The shared work kept them together, but Pias’ coldness made it abundantly clear he was still upset. Nearing a twenty-seven prike trek, the Bridalgo finally reached the edge of the Primidi System.
Without turning from the observation panel and its star-strewn sky, Pias asked, “Have the others responded?”
“Yes, but not all directly. I received acknowledgement echoes from everyone through the usual backchannels. Scalipio’s already on Primidi coordinating arrivals on the ground. I left encrypted instructions to meet at Sanctuary 19.”
Pias eyed him dubiously. “The Communication Council Island? A bit too close to home.”
Bor scowled. “It’s not as if we can escape notice entirely. The Communication Council held its quarterly gathering there forty prikes ago, so we know there’ll be no other assemblies at Sanctuary 19 prior to the full Council meeting. That means it was available and, importantly, the only place on Primidious where I can override and plant a loop in the automatic recording system.”
Pias shook his head. “I suspect you’ll have a lot less control than you think. This is going to look bad in every way, more so with your son involved. There’s a very narrow space between claiming his ignorance and the obvious level of knowledge he’s shown.”
“I am painfully aware. Right now, I am attempting to arrange a meeting with him.”
“It’ll have to be after the Council meeting. If you meet beforehand and anyone finds out…” Pias let his voice trail-off.
He didn’t have to finish. It was obvious KruktuskenBor was, for the first time in a very long while, vulnerable.
Moving through the Primidi System, Bor fell deeper into Recall8 finding himself back in The Halls of Ek. In his entire political life, he’d never been as uncomfortable as he’d been while waiting for Pias to return from Kruk’s debrief. Pias’ Anduuzil physiology and theatrics were more than enough for Bor to feel as though he had a front row seat at the hearing.
It was held at the far side of Rakaja where the seas converged on The Falls of Q. The dungeons awaited Kruk; the Sector 1 Investigation Prime would be met by Pias for the gathering.
“Pias, before we leave… a river of tears?” Bor inquired.
“You do not deserve that honor, nevertheless Kruk acted honorably. Be assured, if he had not, you would not be standing here now. Never in all my turns have I seen such foolhardy, whimsical...”
“Is that so Pias? Our heroism on Iriku
s 4 and the peaceful reckoning on Ja’dor is not enough to cement a lifetime of trust?”
“It is only for those reasons that I did not invoke Article 37 on the Tusken family,” Pias boomed. “Inner Council training or not, it was foolish of you not to have prohibited him from using those overrides! At the very least, you should have explained the ramifications.”
Not wanting to test the might of the Anduuzil, Bor’s voice retreated into a more placating tone. “Very well, Pias. Did you record the interrogation as I asked?”
“Of course.” He pulled a vial of translucent blue liquid from his shoulder patch and handed it to Bor. “Take it. I’ll await your return.”
Pias pulled out a throne-like chair for Bor to sit in and withdrew.
Bor absorbed seven drops of Anduuzilian tears in each eye. The memory transfer was blurry and imperfect, but it was enough. With their aid, his Dragsan Recall flared to life. The room dissolved… replaced by a dark, opaque mist. Gradually, it coalesced into the shapes and sounds of an interrogation room populated by shadowy figures that flowed in and out of focus.
“Silence!” The voice of Investigation Prime Sector 1, Surenik Lamos Bink, slithered through the room like a venomous serpent. A petrifying feeling deep in his naval moved through Bor’s body as it hit his senses.
A light flickered from a central node christening the room with a golden hue. He scanned the room. It was bare save for five otherworldly chairs circling a single, standing figure—his son. The chairs, gleaming fluorescent purple striped with dark metal, each threatening in its own way, were alien even to the cohort.
Beyond Kuiper: The Galactic Star Alliance Page 18