by Brian Mansur
Rafe stared off, defeated. Lilith smiled at his lapse in composure. The gloating woman tapped the pad against Rafe’s broken face.
“Your family lives in Zone 23 near the friend your daughter is borrowing the social account from,” Lilith said. “Gita Tiwari-Hastings works at Station Operations. Karen was writing today about what she did on the weekend, so it seems no one has told her about your disappearance yet.”
The demoness ran a hand along Rafe’s side for a moment then drove her knuckles into his broken ribs. Over his sputtering groans, she said, “If you tell me what I need to know, I will make sure your family has time to evacuate before we destroy Zeus.”
Panting from the pain, Rafe said, “Don’t. Believe. You. Can.”
Slowly, the temptress backed up, her expression brightening with glee. “Thank you for that.”
Immediately, Rafe’s blood froze. What had he just given away with those words? It was so hard to think. Then it dawned on him: he’d confirmed his ignorance to a capability she possessed.
Knowing it would earn him more pain, Rafe tried to recover from his mistake by mocking the woman.
“Ha!” The attempt to laugh came out as a cough, which sent his body into spasms. After wheezing and gnashing his teeth, he continued. “You can’t. Believe anything. I say.” The woman’s smug grin faded into disdainful anger. He wanted to shrink away as she loomed over him, but he sensed this was where all his suffering would be redeemed. From within a well of pain, he made his last stand saying, “There’s no point. In playing.”
Lilith leaned over him in response, her eyes narrowing. Rafe raised his wobbling head to her. “Kill me, Lilith. You’re wasting. Your time.”
They stared each other down. Her emerald eyes shone with a cold and unforgiving gleam. His face, twitching and mangled though it was, radiated righteous triumph. And then, he thought he detected a shift in her features. It sparked a memory. What had Henry said about her moods?
To Rafe’s apprehension, Lilith slid a hand around the back of his head. She climbed up onto his lap, her knees digging uncomfortably into his thighs. Like a tender lover, she carefully lifted his bruised chin.
“Oh my dear Commander Hastings, I’m not going to kill you,” she said. “Not anytime soon. I hate you far too much for that.” Then she squeezed his jaw beneath her fingernails. As he screeched and jerked his head, she said, “You're right about us wasting time though. Since you won’t cooperate, we’ll move forward with what we have.” She crawled off of him and said, “Lilith to Henry.”
“Yes, Lilith?” Henry replied over a speaker.
“When will the Tsunami reach the freighter Feni? It’s the one I had repackaged.”
“Most likely tomorrow evening,” he replied.
“And do we expect the Mykonian battleship Typhoon to be near another armed hauler at the same time?”
“There's a good chance, yes, but you’re not going to—”
“I want to time Phase Two so we catch both the Typhoon and Tsunami when it begins.”
“Damn it, Lilith! We talked about this,” Henry Wilkinson said. “Wait. Just wait. I’ll be down there in a few minutes.”
“Come if you like, Henry. You aren’t changing my mind.”
The channel clicked out. Lilith returned her attention to Rafe.
“You should have cooperated,” she said. “Whatever happens now, I will see to it that your family dies on Zeus.”
Rafe said nothing. He had done what he had intended: to mess with the mafiosa’s plans. What would it now cost him?
Lilith sat in a nearby chair. “You don’t believe me. Is that it?”
“Why do this?” he asked. It was an obvious dodge to her question, but she answered anyway.
“I'm doing it because the game has changed.”
“What has changed?”
A grin pulled at Lilith’s lips. “The Wardens gave me a gift.”
Rafe watched her with renewed dread. He didn't speak, but his eyes must have given it away.
“Now I have your attention?”
If it were possible, Rafe felt even more afraid. "What?" he insisted.
The smile faded from Lilith’s face. She said in a commanding tone, “Warden.”
A machine walked from out of the shadows: an enforcer like the one that had caught him. It responded in a deep, emotionless voice. “Yes, Mistress Lilith?”
"Generally speaking, what did you give me?"
The machine said. “Weapons with which to conquer.”
Rafe’s face went pale. He stuttered, “W-why is the Warden talking like that?.” He’d never heard of one acting so subservient.
Lilith reveled at Rafe’s astonishment. “Everyone is trying to screw everyone else, Mr. Hastings. The trick is to do it to the other guy first, yes? So, I’m going to screw you, your family, and all of Mykon before you can do the same to me.”
Given the Warden standing by her side, Rafe had absolutely no doubt left she could, and would, do what she intended. He tried to draw strength from his one victory. He had pushed her to move before she was ready. That gave Mykon a fighting chance. But what would that cost his wife and daughters? He had to find his way out of this mess and stop her. No matter what it took.
10
Location: Lounge 2, MSV Tsunami, passing Planet Belia en route to Lakshmi Colony’s orbit_
Later that afternoon, Sarah floated alone before the lounge’s bay window, drinking in the celestial vista. The quarter-full gas giant hung like a luminescent orange. She admired its concoction of swirling weather bands and shimmering auroras. This was exactly the sort of thing she’d joined the fleet to see. It served as an anodyne to the heavy news Commander Blake had dumped on them about the Arbiters.
A metallic clang from the room’s hatch made her jerk. Visitors had been trickling in and out to get a glimpse of the planet as they made their closest pass. She’d hoped to enjoy the solitude for at least a few minutes, but it seemed she’d have to keep hoping. Then she saw who had entered.
“Hello, Lieutenant Merrick,” she said, her voice cheery. She straightened to attention, one hand keeping contact with the window’s ledge. Sean wore a surprised expression.
He waived a hand at her. “No need for that,” he said. “Sorry, I should have checked to see if anyone else was in here.” He turned to go.
“No, it’s fine, sir,” she said in a rush, not wishing him to leave on her account. “Actually, I, uh…” She searched for a topic of conversation that would make him feel welcome. “I was hoping to talk to you about the drills.”
“Oh?” he said, hanging beside the open hatch. “From what I saw, you did fine with the patients who came after me. Is that what you were worried about?”
Sarah blushed and loosed a self-deprecating gust. “Thank you, no. I, um, still feel bad about crashing into you.”
“You’re fine,” he said on a conciliatory note. His gaze faltered for a half-second before he added. “Now that you mention it, I’m sorry if I came across a little severe. Between that tourniquet biting me and having a hundred planning factors running through my head for the mission…”
Sarah dimpled with understanding. She didn’t want to think about all the things the ship’s second officer and operations chief had to contend with.
Abruptly, she noticed his silver eyes lock with the view of Belia beyond her. An expression of awe overcame his face.
“Wow,” he muttered, “that looks close enough to touch.”
“Yeah,” she said. “We got in here at the perfect time.”
At that, Sean took a moment to dog the hatch. While Sarah watched him, she wondered at his change in demeanor from the day before. Like so many hardcore officers, he seemed almost too focused on his work. It would do him good, she felt, to relax with friendly company.
Making conversation, Sarah said, “The doc practically shoed me out of sickbay to get a look.”
Sean grunted as he drew closer to behold the starscape. “You’ll be in there for most
of the flight,” he said. “Take every chance you have to get away.”
“In that case, sir, would it be possible to get a slot on a boarding team tomorrow?”
Sean’s head snapped to hers, surprise again tinging his brow. “Looking for field experience?”
She shrugged. “You know what the academy instructors always say: you can’t get enough.”
“Debatable,” he said, “but I’ll run it past the doc and captain.”
“Do you think they’d let me go?”
Sean crossed his arms. “No way they’d risk you on the initial inspections, what with Arbiters and nukes in the mix. But if nothing comes up, maybe you can catch the last flight I’ll be leading.”
Sarah regarded him quizzically. “I thought the marine L.T. had that job.”
“Not with that new intel officer going along. No insult to the marines, but a first lieutenant doesn’t have the clout to control a field grade ego like Blake’s.”
Sarah studied Sean for a moment. “You don’t like the commander?”
“Doesn’t matter either way,” he replied with a tilt of his chin. “Until our guests prove themselves, one of the senior staff leads. Captain’s orders.”
Sarah grinned at him. “Well, if I get to come along, I’m glad you’ll be there, sir.”
He accepted the compliment with a hesitant nod. A silence settled between them.
“I… should have mentioned this sooner,” he said at last. “Lieutenants usually aren’t so formal with each other. I’d blame your predecessor for getting me into a bad habit that way, but that’s no excuse. Please, call me Sean.”
“Sarah, please,” she answered, only barely refraining from tacking a “sir” to the end.
She analyzed his tone and choice of words. He was trying to work past something, but what exactly? He inhaled deeply, a slight frown creasing his forehead.
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s been too long,” he said, “since I just enjoyed something like this.” Then all of a sudden, the tension fled his face, like he’d ordered it away. He turned to Sarah and asked, “Want a sky tour?”
She quirked an eyebrow. She hadn’t done something like that since high school. “Should I put on my holo-crown?”
“Nah, it’s easier to see without them,” he said. “I’ll point for you. Claire, navigational overlay and shut the lights off, please.” The room dimmed, and graphics flared to life on Sean’s holo-lenses.
As Sarah’s eyes adjusted, she let out a low gasp.
“Definitely one of the best perks of flying,” Sean said. He aimed a finger to the side of Belia. “That bright one is Jasmine Colony. That’s Ganesha. And Sundar.”
“They’re gorgeous,” Sarah said. “Can we see home from here?”
“Mykon will be off that way,” Sean said with a wave behind them. “Hang on. Ah. Just by Belia, that’s Lakshmi rising. See those slivers?”
Sarah did and felt a shiver run up her spine. “Are those sails?” she asked, amazed at the sight.
“For the cargo ships,” he said. “Hard to believe the lasers pushing them come all the way up from Cervantes. Two of the anchored redirect-mirrors will be in view soon.”
He leaned against the alcove’s wall and a little closer to Sarah. Not touching, but enough for her to catch a whiff of basil and tarragon. She found it soothing.
“I really should do this more,” he said. “It reminds me of why I joined.”
Sarah’s eyes shimmered at hearing his kindred sentiments. She pulled at a handhold to brush against the transparent aluminum window. Softly, she said, “That’s part of what got me hooked, too.”
Sean looked at her askance. She turned to him. His eyes sparkled beneath his goggles. “What else brought you to the Fleet?” he asked.
“Alright, I’ll admit it,” she said, chuckling. “I bought every word of the recruitment poster. See the system. Make a difference.”
“Why are you laughing?” he asked, his expression one of admiration. “Nothing wrong with wanting to live.”
She regarded him, searching his features for sincerity.
“I hope you do the universe a favor and stay genuine,” he said. “It’s catchy.”
Sarah averted her gaze, feeling bashful all of a sudden.
“What about after Belia?” he asked. “Where do your dreams take you after here?”
Sarah looked back up at him, startled. She couldn't remember a time when a man had asked her about her dreams. Surely one must have from amongst her classmates and the occasional boyfriend. Then again, she’d been so busy learning to become a nurse that she hadn’t let herself get tied down. Or so she’d told herself. Perhaps, like Sean, she’d been a little too focused.
After a pregnant pause, she answered, “My parents always said my sister and I were made for a purpose. They said we only had to figure out what it was and then work for it.” Sarah stretched her arms as though teasing out a memory. “My mom had breast cancer when I was fourteen.”
“Dear God,” Sean said, his brow wrinkling with concern.
“I dropped everything,” Sarah said, “and switched to home classes so I could help take care of her. I was so afraid of losing her.” She let out a breath and smiled faintly. “I think I drove the home nurses crazy making them teach me how to do their jobs. And… when she pulled through, I knew what my purpose was.” She fixed Sean with a soulful gaze. “I knew I wanted more than anything to help people get through their darkest moments to something brighter. That’s my dream.”
Sean’s eyes held hers for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice held a touch of melancholy. “You grew up early, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know about that,” she said. “I keep a stuffed bear called Mr. Micketts in my duffle.”
Sean barked with laughter. She laughed with him, delighted with her effect on him. And for the few beats that followed, she sensed him truly relaxing. It was nice, and she wanted the feeling to last.
As they scanned the heavens, however, the thought of what those haulers in the distance might be carrying stole the peace from between them.
Eventually, Sean asked, “How do you feel about all that heavy news in the briefing?”
“I’m okay,” Sarah said, drawing up her knees and wrapping her fingers around them. “Okay as anyone, I suppose. I mean, things are scary, but this is what we do.” With bravado, she added, “I’ve jumped from places that made me more frightened.” When Sean gave her a quizzical look, she said, “I’ve done a lot of hub diving.”
Sean’s quirked an eyebrow. “A sport for the daring. But how are you really doing?”
Sarah hesitated.
When she didn’t answer, Sean said, “I promise it stays between us.” Then he added, “And Claire too, of course, but she’s in privacy mode here. It would take an order from the captain to get her to talk.”
Sarah smiled weakly at the qualification. She let her gaze fall to Sean’s cheekbones. In a small voice, she admitted, “I’m worried.”
“Of?” Sean asked.
“Of what all this means. We’ve taken for granted that the Wardens have some weird rule set that they run our civilization under. I look at those laser sails and think the bots could give us paradise worlds to live in, where almost no one gets sick or ever goes hungry. But they choose not to.
“Yeah,” Sean agreed.
Sarah turned to stare out the window. “And now the Wardens have gone and given some criminal a bunch of Arbiters. I’m scared we’re going to end up at war. I saw the news this morning about Celes moving one of its fleets to high orbit. They say it’s an exercise, but they could fly anywhere in the system from there. So, I get to thinking, is my family back at Mykon safe? With the economy tanking, I’m sending all I can back home, but the money keeps getting tighter for them. And what will happen once word about the Arbiters spreads?”
Sean nodded and said, “That’s why you’re here—to help keep everyone safe. You’re doing something about it. Probably everyt
hing you possibly can.”
“I know,” Sarah replied. “I know. It’s just…” Her voice wavered, then fell silent. For a few seconds, they said nothing. Then Sean placed a hand lightly on Sarah’s shoulder. The touch drew her out of her state. She lifted her eyes up to his and offered him a grateful smile.
“I’ll see if I can convince the doc and captain to let you join my last boarding trip if things stay quiet. Shouldn’t be too hard. They love a go-getter.”
“Thank you,” Sarah said.
“Why don’t we talk about something more light-hearted?”
“Yes, please,” she said, nodding emphatically.
“What do you like to do when you aren’t busy saving lives in sickbay?” he asked.
Sarah exhaled to flush the tension. They settled back again and began to share their lives.
11
Location: Marine Assault Craft (MAC) 117, docking bay of MSV Tsunami, Belian space, vicinity of Lakshmi Colony_
Late on day three of the Tsunami’s sortie, Sarah clung to a shuddering acceleration couch of a marine assault craft (MAC) as it shoved off from the ship. The ball of tension in her stomach tightened. Seconds later, the Reaction Control System (RCS) jets jolted them away.
“Twenty seconds to combat burn,” the pilot announced through Sarah’s helmet speakers.
The knotting within Sarah intensified: a familiar and intoxicating mix of adrenaline and anticipation. She stared into the assault shuttle’s bright, airless cabin. She had nothing to do except wait like a passenger strapped into a rollercoaster cart as it climbed to the top of a very tall hill.
The thought of park rides led her to recall dates she’d had at carnivals. Rolling her head toward Sean, she watched the steady rise and fall of his armored chest. No jitters for him, she thought with admiration.
The tone of a privacy channel snatched her attention. Sean said in a chipper voice, “Hey, Sarah.”