The Star Mother

by J D Huffman

  She pushed her face forward, putting it in easy reach of the Totality’s hands, waiting for a slap, or a punch. Instead, his expression softened and he returned to that self-satisfied grin he always brandished in her presence. “You are welcome to sit in your own filth,” he said cheerfully. “I would have gladly summoned a guard to escort you to the facilities, like usual, but if you wish to befoul your accommodations, who am I to stop you? This is the sort of vile behavior I’d expect of your typical slave. I had foolishly thought you might be of a superior grade. Clearly, I erred. It truly must have been my beneficence that allowed you to rise so far, because it is inconceivable that someone so base and intractable could ever command a following of any size.” He turned from her gaze and marched out of his throne room without another word.

  She sat for some time in her own urine, and soon began to wonder just how long he would allow it. The smell was not exactly subtle, and she imagined he wouldn’t tolerate her stinking up his throne room indefinitely. She was right: hours later, guards appeared and carefully lifted her cage, being sure not to spill any of her waste over the raised rim of the cage floor. They brought her, cage and all, to one of the maintenance bays for small spacecraft. Gingerly placing her prison in the center of said bay, the guards wordlessly unwound a couple of white hoses from spindles on the wall, turned them on her, and opened the valves. Powerful bursts of water pummeled her body as well as every corner of the cage, the yellow fluid that covered the bottom now diluted and dispersed into spray, mist, and a narrow river of bubbling fluid sliding down into a central drain. The water’s frigid temperature shocked her body, making her jump around inside the cage. She banged her head and most of her joints against the confines as she tried to get out of the way of the streams, to no avail.

  After the guards were satisfied they’d cleaned up her mess, they walked back over to her miniature prison, gripped the edges of the roof, and tilted the whole thing forward at an angle, dumping out the water that had formed a substantial pool in the bottom. When only a few inconsequential drops were left, they released their hold and let the enclosure slam back onto the grouted floor, which rattled her teeth and bounced her briefly around the interior. Again, without saying anything to her, they lifted the cage and brought it back to the throne room. It was nearly dry by the time they returned the mobile prison to its previous pedestal, but Sasha still shivered and dripped. She hated how they didn’t acknowledge her, how they didn’t give her even the most basic human treatment. She realized that bothered her more than Cylence’s taunts and ravings. When Cylence engaged with her, he at least treated her as a thinking, feeling being. But the guards never did. They must think of me like some kind of animal, not aware of anything, no memories, no sense of self. She thought about Actis, and how she might have preferred how things were done there, with impersonal, distant observation. She was also among other humans, which surely counted for a lot. Here, she was alone, with only Cylence and his relentless, expansive ego to contend with.

  She remained in the throne room for a while longer—a few hours—before a different set of guards came back and moved her again. She predicted that she was going back to Cylence’s office, and on that count, she was correct. They put her in the corner which had become “hers,” to the extent anything in this place was. They shut the lights out as they left, and she found herself alone again.

  Sometime later, in the complete darkness, she fell asleep. She startled awake when the lights came on, but remained groggy for a few seconds. She saw an old man darting around the office in a frenzied manner. He did not seem to notice her presence, or at least not the fact that he woke her up. “What are you doing?” she inquired, more of an announcement to get his attention than anything else.

  He jumped and made a strange, almost strangled noise, then shifted on his feet so he could see whoever had called out to him. “Oh, it’s you,” he sighed. “Be quiet. You will attract unwanted attention.”

  “I think you’ve already done that,” she snorted. “You’re Zotz, aren’t you?”

  “I see you pay attention when I give my reports to Cylence,” he said, avoiding her gaze and shuffling through the papers on Cylence’s multiple desks and tables. “I wasn’t certain you could even understand what we said.”

  “You’re friends with William Pearson,” she offered, hoping that would spark his interest.

  The effect was immediate: he stopped digging through Cylence’s effects and made eye contact with her. “Did Cylence put you up to this? He’s going to have you report to him, isn’t he? I knew I was right to be suspicious.” She saw him reach for something on Cylence’s desk. She couldn’t see what, exactly, as it was obscured behind a mountain of documents, but the way his arm twitched told her it was heavy. Probably blunt, too.

  “What are you going to do, bludgeon me to death in my cage? That will definitely be suspicious,” she scoffed. “Cylence didn’t put me up to anything. I hate that smug pile of Totality shit. If you’ll just listen to me, I can tell you how I know William. He helped me stage a slave revolt on Actis. We’ve made quite a bit of trouble for the Totality. Why do you think Cylence has me here, instead of dead or shoved in a mine somewhere? He isn’t the type to keep pets, is he?”

  “Not in my experience,” Zotz said, twisting his lengthy beard between his fingers. “But how shall I guarantee that you won’t tell him I was here? I should have known he didn’t keep you in the throne room at night. I should have checked. But I’m running out of time,” he muttered, trailing off and looking somewhere past Sasha.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you help me, I’ll help you.”

  “How could you possibly help me? You’re in a cage, for one. Cylence would notice your absence almost instantly. Secondly, I doubt you know the first thing about harnessing quintessence.”

  Quintessence? “You’re right. I don’t. I do know something about killing Totality, though.”

  “I’d like to accomplish my task with as little direct bloodshed as possible,” he said, shaking his head. “I am pleased to hear that William survived our previous encounter with the Totality, and I am very sorry for your predicament, but I have greater concerns right now.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I don’t know,” he sighed, moving almost everything on the desks around. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Maybe I wouldn’t. But maybe I would. How did you get in here?” Sasha wondered. “Doesn’t he have anyone watching you? Aren’t you a slave, too?”

  “As far as my masters believe, I am asleep in my room. All their sensors indicate as much. I subverted the security systems in the living quarters to allow me free passage and no surveillance. But I don’t have long. They’ll make rounds sooner or later and notice I’m not in my bed.”

  “It sounds like you need allies.”

  “I have an ally, as useless as he is,” Zotz sighed. “His answer to everything is to blow it up. He’d have blown up the research lab by now if I wasn’t always talking him out of it. The idiot would see us all killed just to satisfy his sense of ethics.”

  Sasha allowed herself a small smile. “Sounds like someone I might get along with.”

  “That’s quite possible. I am hesitant to give you the opportunity, however.”

  “Look, you just said you know how to get around Cylence’s security systems. Can’t you do that here? He doesn’t come around until the morning. That must be several hours from now. I could be anywhere in the Centrality by then—or even outside of it, if you let me go now. You can come with me.”

  “It took me far too long to compromise those particular security measures. The throne room and this office have their own protocols. I don’t have the time to learn and exploit them, I’m afraid. I got as far as unlocking the rear entrance to this section. If Cylence has any monitors attached to your cage or your person, he would know if anyone tampered with them.” />
  “There’s nothing on my person,” Sasha groused, gesturing to her nude body.

  “Could be a chip planted under your skin. Those are rudimentary,” Zotz shrugged. “Might have been put in while you were asleep. It’s impossible to say without the right equipment—which I don’t have here.”

  Sasha exhaled sharply. “You can’t even tell me what you’re looking for, or what you’re trying to do—or not do. Get me out of here, put a weapon in my hand, I’ll do anything you need done, especially if it involves killing Cylence.”

  Zotz gave up on his search and put his attention on Sasha again. “You truly wish to know what it is Cylence has tasked me with?”

  “I can’t screw up his plans if I don’t know what they are, can I?” she quipped.

  “I don’t see how telling you will help me.”

  “Not telling me means I’ll just tell him you were here and tried to set me free, but I wisely chose to stay put and report you. I’d probably be rewarded, and it would gall and confuse Cylence. There’s no downside for me,” she pointed out.

  She watched him ponder what she said for a moment, and apparently came to agree. “Fine. I mentioned quintessence before. Are you aware of it?”

  She shook her head. “Educate me.”

  “It’s the very substance of the universe. It’s beyond what you see, and even what is too small to see. If you can imagine that the universe is a sort of gigantic capsule, the interior of which contains all that is, and the exterior of which is a great, infinite emptiness, quintessence is what composes the walls of the capsule itself. It cannot be directly observed or detected, but if you can harness its power, you can manipulate the very power of nature. It is exceedingly dangerous. I once witnessed an entire solar system destroyed by a small amount of uncontrolled quintessence.”

  “I don’t need much of an imagination to see what Cylence would want with something so powerful.”

  “Ironically, he doesn’t want it for an offensive weapon. You must remember, the Totality are nothing without human bodies to inhabit. Annihilating large numbers of humans is not generally in Cylence’s interests. What he does want is to make it easier for his kind to invade human bodies.”

  “And the quintessence lets him do that, somehow?”

  “So it would seem. He recently field tested a prototype device that expands the effective range of his power. Have you ever wondered how Totality come to inhabit human bodies? It is through proximity to Cylence himself. No one understands why. I’m convinced even he doesn’t know. But the closer a typical human comes to Cylence, the more likely it is they will be possessed by a Totality entity. Cylence cannot directly cause this himself—at least not with ease—but it happens nonetheless.”

  I thought Fred said it was random? Did he not know, or was he lying? “I saw a woman be taken over by a Totality and we were nowhere near Cylence,” Sasha offered as a counterpoint.

  “That would have been from another of our tests. I am sorry about your friend, as well. I assume she is still under Totality control?”

  “As far as I know. But I don’t want to talk about her right now. Keep going.”

  Zotz nodded. “Very well. As I was saying, there are two devices. One is the mobile device which Cylence recently took to another world and tested, with great success. The other is a larger, immovable version, located here and tied to the Source. I believe you heard us discuss it.”

  “I did. What is it?”

  “I don’t know. It’s held in a chamber and kept from view. All I know is that it emits an incredible amount of energy.”

  “Enough to break down the ‘capsule’?” Sasha guessed.

  “That’s what Cylence believes, and what our calculations indicated is possible. I assume you have deduced what that would mean.”

  “Totality everywhere,” she uttered grimly. “You’re not going to let that happen, are you?”

  Zotz leaned against Cylence’s desk, folding his arms. “I may not be able to prevent it on my own. Cylence has employed a sizable number of scientists and technicians on this project. He placed me in a supervisory position due to my advanced knowledge in these areas, but I don’t have as much control as you might think. The notes and specifications are backed up and duplicated in numerous systems, some of them located outside the Centrality. Even if I could destroy the entire lab facility here, Cylence could have it rebuilt somewhere else relatively quickly. What I must really take away from him is the Source. Without that, he has nothing.”

  “Then let me out and I’ll take care of it,” Sasha promised. I have no idea if I could make good on such a vow, but even making the attempt has to be better than this.

  Zotz laughed heartily. “You are a spirited young woman, I will grant you that. The Source is so well-protected as to be effectively inaccessible.”

  “What if someone threw some quintessence at it? You said that stuff is so dangerous. Wouldn’t it eat right through whatever security measures Cylence has in place?”

  “And probably vaporize the rest of the Centrality in the process,” Zotz snorted. “It would certainly be a bold maneuver, however suicidal.”

  Sasha shrugged. “Maybe you can come up with a way to do it that won’t kill us all.”

  “I appreciate that you would place so much faith in me, considering we just met,” the old man chuckled, stepping away from the desk. “No, I think the best course of action at this point is to wait for outside assistance to arrive. I will stall as best I can for the next few days and hope there will be an intervention before Cylence loses his patience with me.”

  Sasha’s interest mounted in a hurry. What does he mean? “Outside assistance? What are you talking about? Are you in contact with other rebels or something?”

  “Not rebels, exactly. Have you ever heard of the Order?”

  Chapter 38

  Relocation Package

  Devon stared blankly at his monitor, unwilling to accept the words displayed.

  REQUEST FOR TRANSFER: DENIED

  DENIAL REASON: NOT CRITICAL TO BUSINESS GOALS

  He needed to be in Seattle. He had no other choice. That man—the strange man who said so many strange things—would kill Meghan, and probably kill Devon himself, if he didn’t do as he was told.

  She’ll never understand why I have to leave, but it’s better than being dead.

  His handler—that’s how Devon began to think of him—this man sees it as his job to order me around and control me—checked up on him at least once a day. Sometimes a note would be left under the lid of his mailbox at home, or placed in the top drawer in his office, or he would stop to pick up a soda from the convenience store, and when his eyes glanced at the digitally-displayed receipt on his personal media device, he’d swear he saw the words “YOU MUST GO TO SEATTLE,” except when he glanced again the text was gone. Was it really there, or not? Did it even matter? He sometimes couldn’t tell if he was receiving real messages from this man, or reading too much into innocuous, everyday occurrences, or simply hallucinating. Meghan had already been so patient with his erratic behavior, he couldn’t imagine bringing any of this up to her. She already thinks I’m losing touch with reality. This would only confirm it for her. She’d have me taken away, probably thrown into a hospital, and then he would easily find me, inject me with something—who even knows what—and that would be the end of it. I’d die and nobody cares when crazy people die. Is it possible I am crazy? What if this guy doesn’t even exist and I’m making it all up because I can’t cope with my memory loss from the accident? But being able to think this surely means I’m not crazy, doesn’t it? Or is that just another layer to the illness? Why am I going around and around in my head like this? I know what I have to do. I know where I need to be.

  He crafted the story such that Meghan would not be concerned too quickly. “I’m heading to a conference at the Seattle office,” he explained. �
�There will also be some training. There’s a new development platform coming down the pike and they want us all to be well-versed in it so we can use it for our next gen products. The higher-ups see it as a good opportunity to get everyone together and celebrate the company’s successes over the past year, too.”

  She looked up from her PMD, on which he saw she was reading something about China—”Dozens of Revolutionaries Killed in Clashes”—and shrugged. “That’s fine,” she said, but he didn’t hear her, not really. Instead, he thought about China, and what that story must have been about, and how he’d not heard one inkling about any kind of “revolutionaries” in China recently. Have I been out of touch that long? It was true, he’d paid almost no attention to current events lately. It had been weeks since he’d bothered to so much as scan the headlines. “Dev?” he finally realized she was saying, over and over.

  He blinked and shook his head. “Sorry. What did you say?”

  She sighed, bit her lip (and probably her tongue), and repeated herself. “I said it’s fine. Do what you have to do. How long will you be gone?”

  “Two, three weeks. They said we’ll play it by ear. There may be some reorganization involved and they might keep me a little longer if they want to transition me to a new product or something. I’ll need additional training. You know how it is.”

  “Not really,” she said, “But I’m sure you’ll do a great job with whatever they give you.” The way she said it made him feel like someone was crushing his heart in their fist. There was no interest behind her tone, and the way she looked at him told him she was completely exhausted with his behavior. When I come back from this—if I come back from this—I bet she won’t even be here. He expected the thought to terrify him, but he mostly felt relief. If she left, she’d no longer be threatened. Whatever dark forces swirled around and engulfed him would spare her if she was no longer part of his life. To that extent, he felt a sense of loss. He didn’t want her to go, but he no longer knew how to keep her, either. He’d become some kind of alien, some cruel masquerade of a human being, ever since that damnable accident. When those people took my memory, they took something else along with it. Something I can’t even describe. My sanity? It’s more than that. It’s like they stole my sense of balance. Not the physical sense, but the sense that makes me feel like a balanced person—an appropriate mixture of emotions and drives and thoughts, and they fucked up the solution and now I’m this volatile, walking disaster. Meghan doesn’t need that. Nobody needs that. All I’m good for is this stupid fucking “mission” I’m being sent on, where I have no idea what I’m doing and will probably get myself killed, or at least locked up as some kind of lunatic. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on with you?” Meghan asked with the tilt of her head.