Retribution

by T. R. Harris

  12

  The air of Antara was just like that of Earth; that was expected since all Colony Worlds were ninety-nine-point-nine percent exact matches of each other. Zac and his team stepped out onto a shimmering concrete landing pad, gawking at the assortment of incredible starships they saw at the spaceport. This was unlike any port he’d ever seen, a showcase of the finest the Antaere had to offer at the official landing field for the capital of a stellar empire.

  And only the finest were here this day, privileged guests for the most exclusive party in the Grid: The Coronation of the new Tesnin.

  An oversized electric transport swung up in front of them, and the rear door lifted open. An Antaere driver decked out in a resplendent gold and blue uniform climbed out of the front section and offered up his vehicle.

  “Honored guests, please enter,” he said.

  Zac noticed how an army of the limos flitted across the tarmac, picking up guests. It was an official service. Ashley shifted into character quicker than the others and strolled past the lowly servant with an air of superiority. They were the cream of Antaere society. They needed to act like it.

  The team climbed in the back of the limo and were whisked away from the spaceport, joining a long line of similar vehicles heading away from a rapidly setting sun. The road they were on was wide and lined with manicured landscaping of rolling hills, plant islands and trimmed trees. The avenue was for show, to impress upon those making the journey to the Andorium that they were on sacred ground.

  After passing through a wide park filled with jubilant natives, they crossed a long wooden bridge lined with decorative pillars pointing into the sky. The water of the surrounding lake was clean and fragrant as if it had been sprayed with perfume. And before them was one of the two gates into the Andorium, capped by an enormous archway with the Antaerean words Glory to the Order embossed on the stone. Zac was momentarily impressed with himself that he could read the Antaerean writing. He may know more of the Antaerean language than he thought.

  As they entered the grounds, the transport slipped into one of two lines, one going left, the other right, where the guests were being dropped off. This was in the wide grassy area between the pair of shallow lakes lit from underwater by a hundred colorful spotlights. Ten fountains cascaded into the air, rippling the water and creating rainbows of color in the spotlights. Ahead of them was the huge, round stage where the Coronation would take place, surrounded by stacks of bleachers with soft, padded seats.

  Zac cringed at the sight of the stage. It was there that Zac had once been brought before members of Antaerean society for them to gawk and point at during his time in captivity. He could remember seven such shows, one even attended by the Tesnin, Denak Zaphin, and the Rowin at the time, Andus. Other members of the royal family were there. Zac could recall their faces, but he had no memory of what he felt at the time. That was how REV memory worked. The images were there, not the emotions.

  After a relatively brief time on Antara, Bornak took Zac on a whirlwind tour of the Colony Worlds—at least those under control of the Antaere at the time—again placed on show for all to see. The Human Beast, The Experiment Gone Wrong, The Mutant Killer, The Destroyer of the Temple on Iz’zar. It was probably best that Zac couldn’t remember the degradation he felt at the time. Even so, he could imagine the feelings, and that was enough to resurrect the anger.

  The transport stopped, and the door opened. The team climbed out and into a crush of Antaere guests working their way toward a half dozen attendants at a security line. They passed through electronic scanners, checking for weapons, before stepping up to one of the designated hosts.

  “Invitations,” he said. Ashley had the documents; where she got them, Zac never asked. The attendant scanned the papers and then asked for each of them to present the backs of their hands. He ran an instrument over them that would embed a short-lived radioactive isotope marker on their yellow skin, giving them access to the grounds and the festivities. He then checked his datapad and handed Ashley a tag with their seating assignments.

  “Nine eighteen through twenty-two, section fourteen,” he said. “The preliminary presentation begins in three hours; the Coronation in four. Enjoy yourselves. There is food and drink on the grounds and tours to the Temple if you are interested.”

  The seating numbers were high, meaning they would be to the back of the bleachers. They were members of high society, just not that high. After this, they were passed through the barricades and allowed to mingle with the rest of the guests.

  “Comm check, Amber,” Ashley said in Antaerean. If anyone overheard, she didn’t want them hearing Human.

  “I am here,” a voice was heard, seemingly from inside Zac’s neck. The communication stick wasn’t designed to interact through the ear cavity, but rather as if someone was whispering in his ear. “There are tours of the Temple. Take one. That makes the job of getting inside that much easier.”

  “Agreed,” said Ashley. As the more experienced agent in covert operations like this, she was taking control. Zac welcomed that. In fact, he got the impression he and Angus were here to provide the security for the mission while the women ran the show. Go for it, he thought. For once, let someone else make the decisions.

  They moved through the throng, in awe of the ornate outfits the Antaere wore. These were the rich of the rich, and they spared no expense to impress their peers. Their culture was much like that of Earth’s, capitalistic and entrepreneurial. As Zac worked his way through the crowd, he chuckled at how familiar the tidbits of conversation were to him, the same as you’d here at any fancy social event on Earth.

  And then it struck him, and he spoke softly so the comm stick would pick up his words.

  “Everyone seems … happy,” he whispered in Antaerean.

  “Well, they are at a party,” Angus pointed out.

  “Yeah, but they just got their asses kicked, and yet they’re acting like they don’t have a care in the world.”

  “They must know about the Ha’curn fleet.”

  “Hell, we just learned about it ourselves.”

  “These are the movers and shakers,” Ashley suggested. “If anyone would know, it would be them.”

  “Pretty confident, aren’t they?” Joanie added. “Well, fuck them.”

  Zac smiled. “Well said, my dear. Look, to the right, that looks like a shuttle cart.”

  They moved toward an open-top, twelve-seat passenger vehicle stopped nearby.

  “To the Temple?” Ashley asked the driver. Guests were already climbing aboard.

  “That is true; please enter.”

  Zac slipped into one of the seat aisles, and Joanie followed, sitting on the outside. Angus and Ashley were moving around the back to enter from the other side, but before they could, an Antaerean couple slid in next to Zac and Joanie.

  An older male native looked over at Zac and scanned him unabashedly before wrinkling his nose slightly. Apparently, he didn’t approve of what Zac was wearing—but neither did he. He’d been told this was what all the finest people on Antara were wearing this season. He’d been told wrong. The native was decked in a sophisticated blue jacket and slim, black pants, just the outfit Zac wished he was wearing.

  When full, the cart set off from the Grand Temple.

  13

  “This your first time at the Andorium.” the native seated next to Zac stated. Zac’s country-bumpkin outfit was the give-away.

  The moment of truth, Zac thought. Could he pull off speaking Antaerean with the proper diction and inflection?

  “You are correct,” he answered. Even those three words tied his tongue. Knowing the words was one thing. Getting your mouth to form the proper vowels and consonants in the heat of the moment, was another.

  “Are you well?” asked the native.

  “Forgive me,” Zac stammered. “I had work done recently. I am still healing.”

  The alien/native eyed him suspiciously. “Where are you from?”

  “Simblaus. I am Bon
in Melos. This is my mate Siloa. I am here with my brother and business partner, Linos, and his first mate, Cayla.” Zac motioned behind them, where Angus and Ashley sat.

  “What business?”

  “The Melos Company. We do manufacturing.”

  “I have not heard of your business. I, too, am in manufacturing, but here on Antara.”

  “It is understandable that you would not have heard of us. We are a business that provides over a thousand products that are essential, yet ones you never think of.”

  “Example?”

  “Rocker arms, junction boxes, relay switches; items such as that. It is not glamorous work, yet we fill a need.”

  The native nodded dismissively. “I create communication equipment, weapons and other essential products. Conron Manufacturing.”

  “Yes! Of course, I have heard of you,” Zac lied. “I am honored to meet you.” Zac bowed slightly, the official method of greeting among the Antaere.

  The mood of the native softened. “And this will be your first time in the Grand Temple.”

  “Also true. That, too, will be an honor.”

  “I have been to it ten days in a row, participating in the pre-Coronation festivities. Three nights ago, we ate with the Rowin. He was at a table very near us.”

  Zac nodded, his eyes growing wide. “Such a privilege.”

  “I even had a word with him.”

  “I am impressed.” Zac turned to Joanie. “Did you hear, Siloa? He has spoken with the Rowin.”

  “I heard. I would never expect to have the honor myself.”

  “He is in the Temple at this moment,” the native said. “It is part of the ceremony, as he renews his devotion to the Order before ascending to Tesnin. Of course, we will not see him there. He is in a restricted section. For this tour, we are only allowed in the Grand Hall and Exhibit Corridors.”

  Zac was watching the route the cart took, sweeping around the North Lake, past the Tesnin Residence, and were now pulling up to the front of the towering edifice of the Grand Temple. The building was shaped identical to the one on Iz’zar, but about twenty percent larger. From here, they were awed by the magnificent portico entrance, the polished white marble walls and the sloping, sensual curve of the golden dome. There were hundreds of Antaere milling around, some even making videos of the building and event. Zac felt relaxed by now, understanding the dynamics of the place and feeling right at home. He hated to admit it, but the Antaere were just like Humans. Maybe that was why they clashed.

  The cart emptied, and the snooty industrialist walked away with his first mate without a glance back, not wanting a pair of lower-class invitees tagging along, sucking off his familiarity with the Temple. That was fine with Zac. He took Joanie by the arm and escorted her through the forty-foot-high open doorway into the Grand Temple.

  And then he had to kick himself.

  He was stopped in midstride by the awesome sight before him; his jaw slack, his breath short.

  Zac had once been in the Temple of Light on Iz’zar—just before his fellow REV, Mike Brickey, destroyed it: He didn’t destroy it—that was Congin Bornak—but Mike was blamed for it initially. Hell, they all were. The Temple on Iz’zar was for the non-Antaere believers in the Order; a temple of their own, and they became very upset when it was destroyed.

  But the Grand Temple of Light in the Andorium was exclusively for the Antaere, and not just any Antaere, but the most elite. As such, it was the grandest of all buildings in the Grid, an amazing mix of impossible crystal spires, shimmering marble, granite and gold everywhere. The worship chamber before him felt like he’d entered a universe of its own, so large and breathtaking that it seemed otherworldly, even alien. He laughed. The place was alien; he’d just forgot for a moment. And then high up an embossed stone pillar was a solitary platform. This was where the priests—and even on occasion, the Tesnin—gave their sermons. And along each side were columns of immense proportion supporting the sky-high dome of the Temple. And at the very top was a hundred-foot-in-diameter, solid crystal lens. It was through the lens that the light of the yellow sun would shine, the same yellow as the skin of the Antaere. This was what made the Antaere the Guardians of the Order. They were born of the Light and carried the same hue. Their place in the Universal Order was preordained. They evolved to be the embodiment of the Order.

  Or so the story went. Zac came back to earth when Angus poked him in his ribs.

  “Gawk much, Mr. Murphy?” he asked. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you just converted to the faith.”

  Zac was embarrassed. “Yeah, well, there is one thing do I know: don’t destroy the damn building. That tends to piss people off.”

  “Hey, we didn’t do that.”

  “But we paid the price.”

  Angus shrugged.

  “To work,” Amber’s voice sounded through their comm sticks. “Find a security station. The computers will be linked to all the areas within the building.”

  Joanie’s dress was adorned with a simple row of one-inch-in-diameter black buttons. In reality, they were access patches for Amber, a way for her to hack into the Antaere computers.

  The team looked around.

  “Security stations?” Joanie asked, raising an eyebrow. “That shouldn’t be a problem. They’re all over the damn place.”

  She was right. With the Coronation soon to take place, as well as the unusual access many had to the Temple, guards were everywhere. Many of the side passageways were gated off, with armed sentries. The problem was getting past the guards and to a computer.

  “Follow me,” said Angus before heading to the right and one of the few open passageways off the main hall. They walked into a wide vestibule, lined with stone tables and statuary. Tiny plaques described the artwork, and the team began to move along the wall, taking in the sights.

  Behind them was a curving stairway going up, with a second level open to below and lined with a thick railing of polished stone. Cornices and quoins climbed the wall to the balcony. And through the railing, they could see a small security station with a computer and monitor on the second floor.

  The problem: The stairway was gated off and with an eagle-eye sentry watching their every move.

  “We need a distraction,” Joanie whispered.

  Zac looked at her and frowned.

  “Just do it; I have an idea.”

  Ashley then suddenly slapped Angus in the face.

  “I said I want to leave!” she yelled. “You cannot stop me, even if you try.”

  She emphasized the word try, and Angus got the message. He stepped in front of her and reached out with his arms. Ashley backed away and then turned. There was another corridor leading away from the exhibition hall and looking to connect with offices in the back. She ran off down the corridor, with Angus close behind.

  The sentry watched her go, and then in a panic, turned to an electronic pad on the gate to the stairway and swiped the back of his hand across it. The gate locked, and then the guard ran off down the corridor after Ashley and Angus.

  “We don’t have a key,” Zac said to Joanie, confused as to what she had in mind.

  “Don’t worry.” And with that, she hitched up her billowing skirt and ran for the wall below the balcony. She jumped on one leg, reaching a ledge five feet high, before bounding off in the opposite direction and to a decorative quoin ten feet higher. She reminded Zac of a mountain goat in the way she climbed. And then one last leap before she reached up and threw herself over the railing to the balcony.

  Zac lost sight of her as she ran for the computer. A moment later, she was at the railing again, looking down at him.

  “Hurry! The guard is coming back,” said Ashley’s voice in their comm sticks.

  “Catch!” Joanie called out. And then she leaped from the balcony, falling on her back, the billowing white dress flowing out from her like the tail of a comet.

  Zac was caught off guard, but he reacted in time to put out his arms. In his current REV state, the tiny woma
n was as light as a feather as he caught her, dropping her feet to the floor just as the sentry appeared from the corridor. The guard eyed them for a moment, seeing Joanie’s mussed-up hair and Zac’s embarrassed look. Then the guard smiled and shook his head slightly. Whatever the handsome young couple had been up to, they’d been caught.

  Zac took Joanie by the hand, and they rushed from the exhibit hall.

  Ashley and Angus met up with them again in the main chamber.

  “I got the patch planted,” Joanie said.

  “I detect it,” said Amber. “I am gaining access to the computer system. Give me a moment to scan the files—I believe I have it.”

  That was quick, Zac thought.

  “There is a series of five electronic centers located nine floors below. The equipment in each appears to be old, older than other systems. Since the weapons were placed on Falmoria-cra four hundred years ago, I would assume the equipment used in the trigger was of that era, although I cannot guarantee that the system has not been updated more recently. But it is a good place to start.”

  “Nine levels down?” Zac asked. He had memories of his REV team moving to the lower floors in the temple on Iz’zar. It was not an easy task. And with the heightened security in the Grand Temple, it would certainly involve some strong-arm persuasion to get there. He looked at Angus, who could read his expression, if not his mind.

  “That’s what we’re here for; to bust heads,” Angus said.

  “Just be subtle about it,” Ashley suggested.

  “I can control the security cameras,” Amber said. “There is a service access past the main bank of elevators. There is one guard on duty.”

  They’d each studied the schematics of the Grand Temple provided by Amber’s mysterious owner, so they knew the lower levels contained offices and priest quarters, and at the very lowest level—at sub-basement twenty—was the Hall of Records, where originals of the most sacred documents of the Order were stored. The lower they went, the tighter the security. Hopefully, going only to the ninth sub-level wouldn’t be too bad.