“Fine.” Now the edges of her eyes creased. “Damn it, Hawk, do you always have to be so optimistic?”
“I’ve never been called optimistic before, so I’ll take it as a compliment. Maybe the CEO-in-training and this entire SeaTech place are finally rubbing off on me.” I lifted the glass, and the others joined me as we clinked them together above the various plates. “To Space Race.”
“To Space Race,” they chimed.
Luther looked pensive, and he leaned in when he spoke. “This”—he wiggled his finger around—“isn’t real, is it, Holland?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“SeaTech. Tell me this is a show. A masquerade to hide the harsh realities from the newcomers, right?” Luther’s eyes were dark.
“Are you suggesting we’re deceiving you?” Holland laughed, slapping a palm on the table. “You guys don’t get it. Bryson Kelley is an idealist. This is his dream. To take the Primary Corps by storm, and to do it while building a solid foundation with his entire team. This is our legacy.”
The words sounded rehearsed, imitated from his father, but I saw the passion behind them and wondered if he wasn’t telling the truth. Why couldn’t someone want more for his people? Why wouldn’t a CEO want to take his measures and bring them to another system, start fresh, and create something better than whatever we currently lived among?
“Damn you, Holland, but I’ve drunk the nectar, and you have me by the tail. Now all we need to do is win this race, and I’ll see it with my own two eyes.” I took a veggie, dipping it into a white sauce.
“The Space Race crew themselves,” a woman’s voice said from across the bar, loud enough to cut through the music and idle chatter.
“Oh no,” Holland muttered.
“Why am I dreading this?” Luther asked, pushing his chair out to find the source of the voice.
“Daddy didn’t come to show off his playthings?” she asked.
I had a good look now. She wore dark leather pants with a vest. The woman spun toward the bar, lifting two fingers in a peace sign, and a SeaTech patch was sewn on the back of her top. Her hair was pure white, short, and spiked in a mohawk, and her eyes were clearly modified to a bright pink color. Her face was narrow, and she carried what I assumed was a permanent smirk. The bartender placed two drinks on the bar, and she shot the first quickly, and the second with slightly more grace.
“Team, meet Kira Nerolf. Pilot extraordinaire.” Holland waved his hand with a gentleman’s flourish, emphasizing his words as if announcing royalty.
“And what’s the heir apparent doing in a dive like this?” Kira asked as the waitress arrived with the last of our food. Kira gave her a sidelong glance and nodded. “Never mind. I forgot you liked to sample the workforce.”
Holland started to get up, but Jade held him back, standing in his place. “And what makes you so special? I think I smell the perfume of envy. Maybe limit it to a single spray next time.”
Kira smiled wider. “I’m the pilot that should be leading this team, except Bryson Kelley is a fool. Why would he bring in outsiders to the Race when he has the elite right here on the Islands?”
“Clearly he’s met you, because that would make the decision a lot easier,” Jade told her. A crowd was gathering behind Kira, and I couldn’t gauge if they were with Holland or the jealous pilot.
“He’s using you. Bryson knows he can’t win, and if he utilizes some washed-up nobodies from the other Corps, he’ll have an excuse why he finished last in the Race. It’s common sense.” Kira turned to the people behind her, and some of them smirked alongside her. “Hawk Lewis? The kid wonder from a million years ago? You haven’t raced since I was in diapers.”
The comment didn’t even faze me. We were outsiders, and the employees’ freedom and lack of rules had given them a sense of entitlement you didn’t often see. Not among the common workers.
“You have a point. I take it you’ve won the Primary Pod Under Eighteen Cup four times? You know, to beat my three trophies?” She could dish it, and I wanted to see if she could take it.
Her pale cheeks turned red with anger. “You have no right to interfere with our future. We want Proxima as badly as Mr. Kelley himself.”
“I doubt that,” Luther said between bites. “Why don’t you scatter and let us be?”
Kira glanced at her allies lining up beside her. “Maybe you should… ‘scatter,’ old man.”
Luther smiled. He was twice the size of any of her friends, and highly trained. I hoped this wasn’t about to get physical, but Luther was far too calm to be goaded by the mohawk-wearing youth. “Holland, can you pass the sauce?”
“You better watch your backs, Team SeaTech,” she muttered.
I kept eating and wiped my fingers on a napkin before finally standing up. Luther was right behind me, or rather, protectively perched in front of me. “Listen, we’re on the same team. We win, you all win,” I told her.
“If you don’t realize that this is just a huge diversion, then you’re a fool,” a new voice said, and everyone turned to glance at the bar. An old man sat with his back facing us, his hands clutching a small glass filled to the brim.
“Cut the crap, Bard. No one wants to hear your conspiracy theories tonight,” Kira called.
“When the aliens come and kill us all, remember me in your last moments,” he said, spinning slowly on his seat. He locked gazes with me and nodded. His face was scarred, rough white stubble jutted from his chin and cheeks, and his hair was messy and combed over his bald head.
“What’s he talking about?” Holland asked.
“Don’t listen to Bard. He hasn’t been the same since the accident.” Kira glanced at the others, who were returning to their seats as the tension began to dispense in the breeze. Kira lost her bluster too, and walked across the bar, leaving us alone.
Jade slunk to her seat. “I kind of wanted to punch her.”
“So did I,” Luther admitted.
“She’s wrong, guys,” Holland whispered. “Dad wanted the best, and he saw something in each of you. He has a way of hiring the right people.”
I raised an eyebrow at that and picked up another little sandwich. “He has some supernatural skills?”
“No, not like that. He’s… Dad never makes a bad decision.”
Bard was still watching me from the corner of his eye, and I decided to pay him a visit. His mention of aliens had sparked my interest. I’d seen dozens of men like him during my career: mentally unstable, perhaps from an injury, drink, or synthetic drugs that slipped illegally across Corporation borders.
“Excuse me. I’ll be a minute.” I crossed to the bar, and Bard shoved a stool out for me.
“Finally, someone’s here to buy me a drink,” he said.
I waited to sit. “You’ll talk?”
“Pop a squat, son.” He slid his empty glass at the bartender. The big man glanced at me, and I nodded, giving him my permission to serve us.
“What were you saying earlier?”
He rapped his own head with gnarled knuckles. “I say a lot of things.”
“What happened?”
“I’m a diver. Was a diver… Compression leak at a thousand feet below the surface. I was without air for seven minutes before they hauled me up. Don’t remember the rest. Ever since then, things have been a little fuzzy,” he said.
“You mentioned aliens.” I pictured the text scrolling across the screen on Capricious, and squinted at him.
“Them bastards are on their way.”
“Who is?”
“I dunno. Aliens. They’re planning something. I swear on my Gammy’s grave.” He took a drink.
“Where did you hear this?”
“I have my sources. Since I haven’t been able to work, time’s something on my side.”
I was intrigued. “They didn’t throw you out after the injury?”
“Nah. SeaTech takes care of their own. Gave me a nice setup too. I’ve been tracking Board communications—all public, of
course—but I’ve decoded messages in them. Seems to me that Sage Industries and Luna Corp realize the aliens are coming, and if they do, Bryson Kelley has to as well.”
“What kind of messages?”
“They talk of a timeline.”
“What is it?”
He glanced around and stared into his empty glass. “I can tell you, but it’ll cost my tab.”
I looked at the bartender and sighed. “Sure. Spill it.”
“Thirty-seven days,” he said while getting a refill.
“Until what?”
He shrugged. “That’s the mystery. They all point to that date.”
My thoughts turned to the Race, and I guessed it might coincide with the finish line. If it didn’t, it would be awfully close. “Thanks, Bard.” I stomped away, feeling like I’d been had. He was drunk out of his mind, but it didn’t stop the hair from raising on my arms.
“I think we’d better go. We have another big day tomorrow.” I rested my hands on Jade’s chair, and the team finished their drinks and the last few bites; then we were off.
Bard’s ominous predictions repeated in my mind as we returned to the Racer.
Nine
The halls were quiet at this early hour, and Jade hadn’t been thrilled about my plan to investigate the mysterious red door at the end of the hallway. She was still half-asleep when I knocked, but she was dressed in a SeaTech jumpsuit nonetheless.
She ushered me inside her room, which was surprisingly messy. A couple of dirty plates and glasses sat on the coffee table, and she had clothing slung across the table chairs.
“What do you expect to find?” she asked.
“Bryson can’t be this virtuous. He’s climbed too quickly, and I can’t shake the feeling this entire place is a façade.”
“If he learns we were sneaking around…”
“He won’t, because you’re going to make sure of it.” I pointed at her Tab, and she grabbed it. Her hair was pinned back today, exposing her earrings. “I’m sorry about your brother.”
“Thanks. I miss him.”
I nodded, but I was an only child. I did know what it was like to lose someone you loved, though.
“Can you block the cameras and access the door?” I asked, looking over her shoulder at the PersaTab. Whatever program she was in looked far too complicated for me. Coding and symbols danced across the screen while she typed hurriedly.
“I can get in.” Jade stared at me. “You sure we’re doing this?”
“I am.” I needed to know if Bryson was up to no good, and after Bard’s cryptic alien-invasion timeline, I was more curious than ever.
We entered the hallway, and I peered around, making sure we were alone. The coast was clear. The end of the corridor wasn’t too far, and the only encounter we had on the walk was with a mindless cleaning drone. It hummed over the floor, sweeping up invisible dust.
And there it was, the red entrance I’d been barred from the first day I’d set foot down here. It was at the end of the station.
“If someone’s in there, we’re toast.” Jade had her Tab out, ready to break through the lock codes.
“What are we doing?” The voice was deep, and I jumped as I heard it. Luther stood behind us, wearing a white bathrobe.
“Luther, you scared the hell out of me,” I told him.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He rubbed an eye and gazed at Jade.
“Arlo thinks there’s a conspiracy at SeaTech, and apparently, it all starts behind this door.” Jade pointed at the red metal barrier.
“I’m in.” Luther crossed his arms, like he was waiting for us to argue.
“Okay, then. Jade, would you do the honors?” I was getting nervous, but my suspicions were nagging me forward.
Two minutes later, the keypad beside the door beeped and blinked green. We had access. Jade opened it, and we stepped through into a room.
Only it was something more than that. It was a shrine.
“Who is she?” Jade asked while the door slid closed, sealing us in.
I’d visited a museum on Mars once with my grandfather, showcasing the history of the red planet, and that was all I could think about when I entered the space. Every corner was tailored for the woman Bryson Kelley had married twenty-five years earlier.
“It’s his wife. Catarina Kelley. I read about her, but all the records say is that she died when Holland was little. Five, I think.” As I walked across the room, a projection began playing. It was Bryson and Catarina, slow dancing in the middle of the empty space. The hologram was tinged in blue, but their happiness exuded from the feed.
“She’s so beautiful,” Jade whispered.
We looked at articles of her clothing, her wedding dress hanging on the wall. Luther found a Tab with dozens of letters from Catarina to Bryson on it. Once we knew what it was, we quickly discarded it, not wanting to breach his privacy. It was a little late for that, since we’d already broken into this personal memorial.
A series of projections was listed in the control panel, highlighting special moments for Bryson. A chair sat on the floor, and I pictured the CEO recalling the past in solitude. It was heartbreaking.
“Let’s go.” I hadn’t discovered the great mystery like I’d expected, but perhaps I understood our leader a bit more.
____________
We broke the goal set by Bryson two days later. A week after, we were heading into the dark recesses of space, gaining distance from the sun at a seventy-degree trajectory from Earth. None of us had spoken about what we’d discovered in Bryson’s private room, and we definitely weren’t going to bring it up with Holland. I wondered if he was even aware such a place existed.
“There’s nothing nearby, not for quite some time,” Luther said, combing the maps. The last thing we’d seen was a SeaTech space station, and we’d stopped there for the night, taking advantage of the base before settling ourselves into the comfort of the Racer for a week or so.
The ship was more suited to space travel, and I found myself more confident in the pilot’s seat out here than over the ocean, but I appreciated the fact that Bryson had made us meet goals within Earth’s atmosphere first. In retrospect, it was the proper training decision. I was anxious to start the Race, but we were still weeks from the epic event.
I loved being in the middle of nowhere. The viewer gave me a great panoramic shot of my surroundings, and I stared at the distant stars, wondering how many of those systems contained life. The Board had always suggested we were alone, but I hadn’t quite believed them. Not for a second. My grandfather had told me something important when I was young, and I’d never forget it.
I was five or six, and he’d sat me on his lap near the beach in Sage Industries, and pointed to the stars. “Arlo, there are thousands of worlds to be explored, but we are shackled to Earth by small-minded people. Free yourself to be something other than your mold. I couldn’t do it, and from what I can tell, your parents won’t either.” He set a hand on my chest. “Those stars are for you, Arlo. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you, old man,” I whispered to myself.
“You weren’t talking to me, I hope,” Luther said, and I chuckled.
“I wouldn’t dare. R11, time of arrival?” I saw the clock on my dash, but the robot hadn’t spoken in hours.
“We will be at our destination in twenty-three minutes, eleven—”
“Round up,” I told him. “Unless the seconds matter.”
“How would I determine that?” R11 prodded.
“Never mind. Thank you.” I rolled my eyes. No matter how much programming went into these things, they always had limitations.
The Racer’s thrusters burned blue behind us, carrying us at a far faster speed than I was used to with Capricious. Even though this vessel was slick, and as high-end as I’d ever stepped foot in, I did miss the comfortable familiarity of my girl.
Which brought another question. “As you all know, a ship needs a name.”
“So it does,” Jade re
plied. “What was your hauler called?”
“Capricious.”
“That’s an odd name, isn’t it?” Holland asked.
“Nah. I’ve known pilots who named their ships after their favorite drink, or a girl back home. Then there are the ones who think they’re funny by calling the vessel far less reputable things, like extremities of the human body. Capricious was the only name I could gift her. She’s volatile, prone to fits, and her mood seems to change on a dime. One minute she’s flying like a solar wind, the next she’s blowing a gasket, leaving me stranded.”
It was Luther’s turn to jibe me. “Maybe you should have called her Clunker.”
I tensed, knowing he was only kidding around. “We have ourselves a comedian.”
“I believe Capricious is a fine title for a hauler, Captain Lewis,” R11 chimed in.
“Thank you, R11.” I pursed my lips, peering at the smiling team behind me.
“But perhaps Bucket of Bolts would have been more fitting,” the robot finished.
We all sat in silence for a few seconds, trying to process what the red and black painted robot had said, and Holland was the first to break out in laughter. The mood had lifted for the better, Luther chuckling loudly.
“R11, you crack me up,” he shouted. “I knew there was a reason the CEO sent you along.”
“There are many reasons. Would you like me to list them?” R11 suggested.
“I guess the funny business is over. Maybe some other time, R11.” The unit blinked onto my radar as we approached our coordinates, and I saw the energy readout. “Is this accurate?”
Jade leaned beside me for a better look. “Sure is. The Rings take a lot of energy to power, and it’s done with a series of short-wave pulses, redirecting energy from the Hub, which is what you’re seeing. This bad boy could give a lesser Corporation power for an entire year. Maybe somewhere like Parker Industries.”
“The generator must be dangerous,” I said.
“You’re correct. They pack one heck of a punch, but the containment fields hold everything in nice and tight. It’s hard to crack a Hub, but if you did…kaboom. It’s almost strong enough to create a small wormhole. In theory.” Jade stayed put as we approached.
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