“Don’ tell me that’s Durante Weiss?”
“Yer kiddin’,” Drevan chuckled.
Then their six-man crew went tearing off past them drawing their arms simultaneously and racing straight for them.
“Aw shit,” Asta muttered.
CHAPTER FIVE: THE HARD TRUTH
TWO HOURS HAD passed since Mr. Lester had let him go. Durante struggled over the staggered dunes and torn landscape as he made his way towards Chesik Villa. There, he’d catch a coach out to the train station in Marston.
Should’ve just let Mr. Lester take me all the way with him. Durante stumbled over a clump of tattered weeds (why the locals called it pissweed he really didn’t want to know) and almost lost his balance over the top of a dune. He hadn’t anticipated a missing buggy. Likely young Ms. Wilson, he was sure. But she hadn’t shared that news with Mr. Lester, for some reason. Which raised the question, why hadn’t she?
At the rate he was going, he’d be in Chesik by nightfall. Provided he wasn’t mangled by one of those howling desert dogs that roamed the Sutures first. He’d yet to see one, but he’d heard plenty of them since coming to the ranch. Particularly at night. He thought they were likely nocturnal so making it to town before the sun went down was preferable.
Sand blasted up under a hard-blowing wind and he raised an arm to defend his eyes against it.
Damnit! How can people stand to live out here? It’s nothing but dirt, rock, and sand! So much sand! He tripped over another clump of Hynlineum. And this damnable pissweed! Can’t forget that!
He paused looking to the horizon after the blown sand calmed down. From here, Chesik was still a brown dot. He sighed. Going back wasn’t an option. But going forward felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done.
The sky was a clear blue. Not a cloud in sight. Fake or otherwise. He lowered his hand and cast his sight from every perspective he had a view of. It was actually quite serene, even if the environment was trying to kill him. He never did understand why the elements here were so intense. Where he was from, the domain was less chaotic, almost still by comparison.
All this potential, all these resources… and they squander it playing Cowboys and Indians. He winced and his hand went to his lower back. He’d healed up pretty well but there were still random shots of pain that occasionally doubled him over. Of course, that might always be the case. Regrettably.
Maybe I should’ve just asked for the journal. He laughed to himself. And gotten shot for the effort, I’m sure. Or at least turned away. And still would have failed my task.
Durante pulled his backpack off and reached inside to pull out the journal. Then, slung the pack back on. All of this over Professor Wilson’s secret inventions. With this, Mr. Berricks will leave the Wastelands alone and go back to the Union with new toys to play with. A sudden fear grew in his stomach and hung there as he looked up from the book and towards Chesik. …New toys to play with. What does he want this for? These inventions are to better people’s lives? Is there something in here Mr. Berricks could use… for himself? No. That’s foolish, Durante! I have to take it to him before more people lose their lives over this. He started walking. Stopped. But… how many more will be lost if I hand it over? No, I have to trust it’s the Union calling the shots, not Mr. Berricks.
He shook his head assuming he’d made a decision. But remained standing where he was, staring off into the distance. Then he looked down to the journal and cracked it open to the front page.
Help me decide, professor. Do I take it to Mr. Berricks like Mr. Lester expects me to do? Or do I take it and try to hide it somewhere? Which is the worst evil? He looked at the writing on the first page and furrowed his brow. ‘The Complete Outfitting Of A Red Star Sheriff’. …What the hell does that mean? He closed the book back. If only the professor and I knew about this journal, how in the hell did General Berricks find out about it?
Durante opened the journal to the back cover and rubbed his hand across the spot where the chip had been. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But it did make him think back to the first time he’d met the professor. And the last time he’d seen him alive.
MOST STUDENTS AT the Aquilan Sciences Academy were assigned apprenticeships all across the planet. Few were ever assigned to a Master in the city of Aquila Mons itself. In that, Durante had been extremely lucky. Professor Cooper Wilson had been one of the most highly respected and esteemed scientific minds in the world. Over the course of his apprenticeship, Durante had learned much in the development of project proposals. And he was forever indebted to the man as a result.
The professor had been tireless in his dedication to his work. Which made keeping up with him equally tiring. A fact Durante discovered on his very first day in the professor’s downtown lab where he was given a masterclass in being busy.
He hurried down the hall of the sciences building of the projects development facility affectionately known as ‘The Colosseum’ but which held the title of ‘Colonial Technologies and Contracts Consortium’ (the CTCC). He’d expected to find a distinguished professor with wizened features and white hair with a scraggly beard and wearing wired framed spectacles leaning over some ancient tome uncovering the secrets of the universe. Instead, he found quite the contrary.
When he entered the main labs offices, he was taken completely by surprise by the scene awaiting him. Four men stood in the center speaking animatedly. A tall man in a grey senatorial robe stood glaring menacingly down at a shorter thinner man and was waving his hand angrily. The old Chuhukon had braided, greying hair and scrunched up features that made him look like a red-faced bulldog in a wig. With him were two military generals of fairer features standing stoically and allowing the tall senator to rage. The subject of his ire, the bespectacled man he was yelling at, was maybe five inches shorter with dark brown hair, a smooth hairless face, and vivid blue eyes. He was also calmly smiling.
“Senator Sonoros, I assure you,” the smiling man spoke, “the new gravimagnetic lifts will be installed and ready for deployment by the end of the month.”
“You’ve been telling me that for the last two months! We need those lifts now! The old transports just aren’t cutting it anymore and the generals are growing impatient!”
Durante noted that both the generals looked either to their feet or to a wall, but not directly at either of the two men. The thirty-year old man, Professor Cooper Wilson, pushed his glasses up his nose a little and chuckled.
“The delay was due to some staffing issues. We also wanted to put the new tech through some more rigorous testing. I haven’t heard anything about any impatience coming out of the Defense Force. For your own personal edification and the generals’, the technology is functioning as expected and, as I said, will be ready to deploy by the end of the month.”
“I don’t pay you for excuses, professor. Your assurances mean nothing when you continue failing to deliver.” Sonoros sliced his hand through the air. “You’re a full two months behind schedule and I expect results!”
Professor Wilson crossed his arms and raised a brow. “First off, we’re nowhere near so far behind. It was only a minor two-week delay. The ‘two-months’ I’ve been telling you about our readiness was part of the testing phase. General Morris and General Taylor here seem quite satisfied with our progress. That you’ve dragged them out here in your incessant need to insert yourself into the development cycle only proves a waste of time in their busy schedules as well as mine.”
Sonoros turned a deeper shade of red and looked on the verge of a retort when the professor raised a hand up.
“Secondly, senator, you don’t pay me. The Aquilan Sciences Division does. Which means you have no authority over these labs. In fact, I don’t even know why you’re here. It’s the Hinon Defense Force whose contract we’re meeting. Last I checked ‘paid for by Senator Elien Sonoros’ wasn’t stamped on the paperwork.”
One of the generals started to laugh but immediately covered his mouth with a balled-up fist and feigned a coug
h instead.
“The impudence!” Sonoros’ eyes wide, brows raised. “Mark my words, I will be speaking to the ASD about this! You’ll be hearing more on this insubordination soon!”
Senator Sonoros turned around, his robes trailing an arc, and stormed out of the office. The two generals followed, shallow smiles on their faces. One nodded encouragingly at him and then they were gone.
Professor Wilson turned towards Durante and beamed. “Mr. Durante Weiss, yes? Pleasure to meet you.”
“My apologies, professor,” Durante started as he took the professor’s proffered hand. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting.”
“Nonsense. That was no meeting. Just Sonoros strutting around trying to impress the generals with how he gets things done. I’m sure they have better things to do.” Professor Wilson let go of his hand and turned. “Alright. Let’s get to it, then. Grab a coat off of that rack over there. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“No guided tour first?”
The professor looked to him. “Why? You’ve been in a lab before, right?”
“Yeah, but not yours.”
“Bah! You’ve seen one lab you’ve seen them all.”
“I’m not certain that’s completely true, sir.”
Professor Wilson laughed. “I understand you were top of your class.”
“Yeah,” Durante said lowly. “But, you know, nothing to brag about.”
“Is that so? Not easy to finish in the top one percent at the Academy. When the directors were placing new grads, I told them, ‘I kind of like that Weiss kid. Why not send him my way?’ They didn’t think that was such a bad idea.”
Durante stopped in the hallway just past the office to the main lab. “You… asked for me?”
Professor Wilson stopped at the lab doorway. “Of course. You should have a little pride in yourself. You did good work. And you’re going to do just fine here. Come on.”
Of the seven years Durante spent apprenticed to Professor Wilson, only two and a half were in Aquila Mons. That time was a blur now, a series of experiments and the building of prototypes. Meetings with officials and the development of new and improved technologies. The professor was an incredible inventor. Always approaching problems with a keen and creative eye looking for solutions with a unique mind. But his organizational skills left little to be desired. Whereas his brain was the finest example of cleverness, his lab always looked like it was run by a mad scientist’s crazier, long lost brother.
What he remembered most about his time in Aquila Mons were those last few weeks starting with a troubling statement by the professor shortly after a visit by his wife, Mirra.
“What do you mean you’re ‘leaving the city’? Wh, what am I going to be doing? Where will I go?”
Professor Wilson gave such a shocked expression that one could have sworn he was just electrocuted.
“What are you going—” he shook his head. “Why, you’re coming with us, are you not, my young apprentice? Is it even a question?”
Thinking back on it, it really hadn’t been a question, had it? He would be going wherever his Master guided him.
“I don’t understand. Where are we going? Why? Don’t we have to get permission from the Sciences Ministry first? Why wasn’t I consulted first? Though, I don’t suppose I warrant that kind of clearance, do I?”
Professor Wilson smiled and turned to walk towards his office. “So many questions, Durante! You have a very inquisitive mind. It’s why I like you so much. I was right to trust my instincts about you and, soon, you’ll know more about why we’re leaving. But I’d prefer to keep it unsaid for the time being. When we’re on our way, I’ll fill you in. For now, I need your assistance with a certain matter.”
Durante followed him into the office and towards a bookcase full of journals. The professor pulled one particular book off a shelf and gripped it tightly.
“We’ll be heading out in just under three weeks. After getting our affairs in order. Needless to say, it’s a private location where we can operate with autonomy.”
“No more dealing with Senator Sonoros?”
The professor smiled. “One of the most significant perks of this, to be sure. In fact, I had a nice long conversation with him earlier about it all. Another benefit will be I’ll be able to be closer to my family.”
“Yeah, I hadn’t seen Mirra in over a year before her visit.”
A distant look fell over the professor’s face. “Yes… The duties and obligations of her job have been demanding recently. However, I hope to soon change that.”
“When I first met her, I thought she was your security consultant or something. Is she still doing that?”
Professor Wilson’s eyes sparkled looking at him. “Something like that. Which brings us to this journal. It’s going to be full of very specific creations. Schematics and inventions that are more important to me than you can imagine. And if they prove to be reliable, they may even change the world as we know it.”
He patted the cover gently, then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a chip to hold up and show Durante.
“What’s that for, professor?”
Professor Wilson handed it to him. “For you to plug into a tracker unit. This tracer chip will be able to track its twin embedded right inside here.”
He opened the book to its back inside corner and pointed to the top corner. Durante frowned.
“Of all your journals, why this one? What makes this one special?”
“These will be the inventions that will change everything. And I can’t afford to lose this book in the move. I have a tracer chip myself, but I’m so absentminded it’s amazing I haven’t lost my head! Mirra keeps saying I should take ginkoba or the like. I told her that would be great. If I could remember to take it.”
The professor offered up a wry grin as Durante chuckled and took the tracer chip. They wouldn’t need it as the professor kept the journal on him at all times. But Durante supposed the peace of mind was good to keep the stress away.
NEARLY FIVE YEARS later, the day Durante had been hoping for (and dreading) finally arrived. A summons of intermanship in the Union capital city of Philadelphia. The conflicting terror with exhilaration had his mind twisted. He wanted to race down the halls screaming, but his feet were firmly rooted to the floor. He stared at the monitor on his desk, the wording of the summons playing through his head: ‘Congratulations, apprentice Weiss. You have been selected to intern with Headmaster Bokham Pryce of the Greater Institute of Sciences Division of Gabraldor. You are instructed to report to Doctor Pryce by May fifth. Please be diligent in contacting Doctor Pryce’s offices on receival of this summons’. And he had. Immediately. Now it felt like a terrifying dream and he would have to let Professor Wilson know.
And yet, he wasn’t sure that he could. For two hours, he sat and ruminated over how to tell the professor. He knew he’d be happy for Durante, but he and his were so much like family now that he’d never thought he’d actually get that summons. For the years that they’d been at these labs, located deep within the Crags network of the Wastelands (so deep, they were technically in the outer canyon of Turin Crevasse), he’d gotten quite familiar with the professor, his family, and their important work. He knew every inch of the labs that were located within a series of buildings reminiscent of old renaissance towers complete with domed roofing. All three floors laid out in circular patterns.
The living tower (which they called it) contained four bedrooms along the curved southern corridor with a circular observation room dividing them. At the western ring was an equally round recreational room with kitchen attached. The corridor there ran to the northern side where a laundry room and sloping rampways to the other towers had been built. And to the east was a lounge and a lift to the office complexes and a railway station far below at the base of the Crags. Running from the lounge cutting through the premises was a straight hallway that connected to the rec room. There were four rooms in that corridor which were private offices a
nd a library.
Durante sighed and stood up. There was no sense in delaying any longer and he had a lot to do before leaving. He exited his room and turned left, traveling the corridor past the observation room that looked out onto the breadth of the Wastelands and past the washrooms on the right, and made his way around to the other side of the building where laundry and sanitation was. Two hallways ran off the back of the room full of folding counters and washing machines. One of those halls ran down and to the left. The other ran right and down into the docks. He followed the left corridor and sloped down around the wall as it curved into the lower labs.
Voices came up to him as he rounded into a short hallway that led into the labs proper. The downward spiraling corridor he had been on led down into a lower level he’d never ventured into. From what the professor had told him, it was more of a storage facility than anything else. He walked forward past another semi-hall that ringed the labs at the center. Around there were specific enclosed rooms for various departments of research like astronomics and atmospheric analysis. His destination was the wide-open facility where the main research was carried out.
Durante stopped by a quarter wall dividing the research corridor from the central room that looked straight out of some large rotunda’s interior. Professor Wilson was talking to his wife, Mirra, who’d come up for one of her weekly visits. Durante had seen more of her recently, even finally met their daughter, Aidele, once a few years earlier. He hadn’t seen her since. Durante leaned into the wall edge and just watched them, letting them speak, afraid that he would never see or hear them again.
“…and after all this time, the better part of a decade, to finally see these sorts of results! It’s satisfying to say the least!”
Mirra folded her arms across her chest. She smiled, her braided hair bouncing off her shoulder. Her demeanor, though, was as serious as he’d ever seen. She was like that. She could laugh sweetly (and he loved her laugh), but her eyes had a deep thoughtfulness that seemed to always keep the professor in check. As if she went out of her way to ensure he didn’t get into the sort of trouble he couldn’t get out of.
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