Titan's Fury: A Science Fiction Thriller (Children of Titan Book 4)

by Rhett C. Bruno

  I nodded. Then I signaled Malcolm’s pod to open. The intravenous tubes that kept him healthy while he was under slid out, but he didn’t move. At least, not his body. I noticed his eyelid twitch, like he was struggling to keep them closed. He was waiting to catch me off guard.

  I removed Malcolm’s own pulse pistol from the holster on my hip. He sprang awake suddenly, fingers grasping for my throat but squeezing only air. I’d already slid around the side of the pod and had the gun pressed up under his chin.

  “I couldn’t help myself,” he said mirthfully, voice muffled by a sanitary mask.

  “Get out,” I demanded.

  “Are we there already?”

  “Get out!”

  “For Earth’s sake, give a man a moment after he wakes up from one of those things. I hate going under.” He rubbed his eyes, the same way his daughter did whenever she got up. “Guess I should thank you, though. It’s like sleeping in a coffin, but better than months with no company except space. I’m guessing Aria isn’t talking with you much anymore, and you don’t seem to even know the names of any of the others.”

  My tongue tripped over a response. Aria used to say something similar when she was discussing interplanetary travel before we went to Mars. She’d said a wise man told it to her. Apparently, that wise man was the haggard excuse for a collector floating in front of me.

  “So what’s the plan, kid?” he asked. “We going to go strolling in, side by side?”

  “You’re going to land inside the hangar, load me into that pod, and roll me into Luxarn’s office. Right past his Cogents.”

  “And what’s to keep me from giving you a kick out the airlock?”

  “I’ve rigged Zhaff’s sleep pod to poison him with oxygen if I hit this application on my hand terminal. Aria will be surrounded by my best men. If I die in there, she’ll never meet her child.”

  “I figured. Using innocent people as collateral is getting pretty easy for you by now, huh?”

  “She’s not innocent.”

  Malcolm rolled his shoulders. “Few really are. Doesn’t mean they deserve to die.”

  “Says the man who’s pulled this trigger on more people than anyone on Titan.”

  “Well, I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve to be alive,” Malcolm said. “Yet here I am, because of her. You want Luxarn, I’ll get you in, but you make me a promise.”

  “You’re not really in a position, Collector.”

  “It’s getting pretty damn clear I’m not getting out of this alive, kid. I’m too old. Too damn tired. All I’m asking is that you promise me, as a fucking man, that no matter what you do with me, Aria lives.”

  “She betrayed me,” I said.

  “Take her child then. Give him a crown. But you either treat her right or you send her somewhere where she can live the way she deserves.”

  I stared into his eyes, dumbfounded. This credit-hungry, Earther collector—the vilest of their kind—was genuinely willing to give his life for a daughter whose existence he made a living hell growing up. It wasn’t something Earthers tended to do.

  “Is that all?” I said.

  “No. Once you’re done with whatever you plan to do to Luxarn, Zhaff dies painlessly.” He pointed to the Cogent sleeping soundly in his pod. “Whatever his father made him into, he was better off dead, where nobody will see him as the freak he isn’t.”

  Malcolm stuck out his hand, fingers trembling. His lips might’ve been too, but they were covered by a sanitary mask. “You promise me, kid,” he said, voice shaking. “Or I swear you may as well put the bullet in both of us now because you’ll never get inside that rock. I get you to Luxarn and back. They go free.”

  For some reason as I continued to stare, I saw myself in the Earther. He was five times more wrinkled and had hair as gray as Titan’s sky, but I did. I remembered standing in the Darien Quarantine visiting my sick mother, separated by a screen of glass that seemed impossibly thick. I remembered when the Children of Titan made me an offer to help them smuggle something onto the Piccolo in exchange for her treatment. I’d uprooted my entire life for that chance to save her, and it led me to the only night I’d ever shared with Cora, then to being recruited by Maya and Gareth. It led me to everything.

  Maybe our revolution really did mean something if it could get a man like Malcolm Graves to take that same risk. To put another’s life before his instead of credits, or tech, or glory. I slowly reached out and grasped his hand, my long fingers wrapping it halfway back around.

  “You have my word,” I said.

  “I hope it’s worth a damn,” he said.

  “We aren’t Earthers.”

  “No, but you’re human. And I’ve seen enough of them. Whatever you did to Rylah—”

  “She deserved. She betrayed her people to save an Earther and an offworlder. At least Aria did it to save her father. Your people don’t usually understand what it’s like having only one family. We do. We’ve had our parents, and brothers and sisters, and nothing else for our entire lives.”

  “You messed Sol up pretty good, Kale Drayton,” Malcolm said. “But that’s fair enough.” He gave my hand one last hard shake, then released it. “Look at me, shaking hands with a king.”

  “Your people named me that, you know.”

  “I know. Just like yours named you Trass. All that’s ever mattered is what people believe, isn’t that true?”

  My brow furrowed. He smirked like he knew a secret. Had Rylah told him the truth about the Trass bloodline? That it had died off more than three centuries ago with him and endured in name only.

  “Cora,” a voice announced from the cockpit. My heart momentarily leaped into my throat until the person went on. “You are approaching the Undina Mining Facility. Please confirm your identity, and we will open the Sector D loading dock, which has been prepped for your arrival.”

  “Time to go meet the kingmaker, then, Lord Trass.” Malcolm bowed his head as low as he could as he uttered the name. Then he drew himself along the ceiling back toward the command deck to answer the call. He stopped by the entry.

  I watched him go, all smiles and straight shoulders. Confident, like a collector should be, or resigned to the fact that he was never going to get off Undina alive. He was probably right, just like he was right about my lineage. It didn’t matter if he knew the truth about Trass. My people would never believe an Earther over me.

  I was their king the moment I killed Pervenio Director Sodervall. I was their voice when I stood before the USF Assembly and refused to be kicked aside. And I would set them free when I made Earth understand the fear we’d lived our lives under.

  That was what made me a Trass.

  M-Day had arrived on Earth, and it would be one to remember.

  Twenty

  Malcolm

  “Show your hands,” an emotionless Cogent ordered the moment I stepped off the Cora. It felt good to have gravity tugging on my weary body again, however weak the force was on such a small asteroid. It reminded me I wasn’t a corpse yet. Resting for the journey had my artificial leg feeling less like a dead weight I dragged along with my broken body. I even had my own F-3000 collector-issued Pervenio pulse pistol dangling from my hip, a collector’s duster on, and no sanitary mask covering my mouth.

  Just like old times… almost.

  Three Cogents were waiting, weapons ready, yellow eye lenses gyrating as they focused on me. Their builds were all different, though each appeared as pale and staid as Zhaff. Luxarn’s lethal army of monotonous servants, plucked off the streets like his own mentally troubled son to give their lives meaning. That always was Luxarn’s greatest talent, turning shit into shine.

  They strode toward me, and one peered directly into my face. They were trained to look through a man, to read their subtle facial tics and cues to discern whether they were lying. I knew as they scrutinized me that Kale’s and my path to Luxarn would stop right there if they noticed anything off.

  Zhaff was a master. Nearly impossible to deceive, bu
t one look-over and this Cogent cleared me. They couldn’t compare to Luxarn’s son. Either that or they, like Varus, had already been influenced by Luxarn to trust the best collector there ever was.

  Another examined the sleep pod I rolled out into the hangar and found the boy king of Titan fast asleep inside with a sanitary mask on. That part was real. Kale couldn’t wear his armor if it was going to appear authentic, so I had had the pleasure of looking down on his scrawny Ringer body as he got in. Watching him squirm as I switched the sleep pod on was the most enjoyable thing I’d experienced since Martian nightlife, but it was the only way. He hadn’t left me much of a choice but to go along with it either. For all his bravado, he might not have had it in him to hurt Aria, but his men would. They were loyal to a fault, just like the Cogents inviting me in.

  “Where is Zhaff Pervenio?” one of the Cogents asked. I took note of the fact that he used Zhaff’s real identity.

  “Still in stasis on the ship,” I said. Again, lying to a Cogent was easier when there was a whole heap of truth behind it.

  “What is his condition?”

  “Terrible,” I said.

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “I’m not a doctor.”

  The three Cogents exchanged a look. Nothing changed in their expressions, but somehow, I could tell that a series of understandings took place between them.

  “Please follow us,” one of the other Cogents said. “Mr. Pervenio is awaiting you.”

  “That’s it?” I said.

  “Is something not adequate?”

  “I was hoping for trumpets.” I patted the young man on the shoulder. Months of sitting in a cell on Titan made me appreciative of Cogent naivety. It made me miss the simple days of having Zhaff as my bothersome partner who couldn’t take a joke. Now I was working with a murderous sociopath whose plans beyond reaching Luxarn I was still trying to figure out.

  “No games, Mudstomper, or she starts losing fingers,” one of Kale’s Ringers spoke through the com-link hidden in my ear, listening to everything.

  “Please, come,” a Cogent said. His eye lens momentarily aimed at my ear, like he could hear the Ringer, then he continued along. “We were requested not to delay.”

  “Right behind you.” I grinned and followed, pulling Kale’s pod along with me. I slapped my ear to remind the Ringer to shut up.

  Two of the Cogents led me onward while one took a contingent of security officers and moved to board the Cora and find Zhaff. Kale’s people were hidden in some sort of smuggling compartment built into the vessel, which I was assured could escape even the wary eyes of Cogents.

  I’d been to the mining facility portion of Undina before, and it was nothing to brag about. The entry lobby was clean and white, with the red helix logo of Pervenio Corp plastered everywhere. Beyond that, it was all rock and stark, metallic panels. The galley was in disrepair. Lights flickered, wall panels were dented or worse, and a thick coat of dirt covered everything. A sad sign of the current state of Pervenio Corporation. The Luxarn I once knew barely tolerated a mote of dust floating within one of his properties.

  Noisy mining crawlers rumbled over rough terrain deeper in, through gaping tunnels, while workers stripped the asteroid of every ounce of worth it had. Only last time, there were enough workers to make a dent. Now it was a skeleton crew. Most of them had their feet up and were drinking whatever piss passed for synthahol among miners. If that’s what they even were. For all I knew, the mine really was entirely a front, and Kale was walking us into the middle of a small army.

  After all, not one of the employees batted an eye at the strange Cogents strolling by. Or the rugged collector dragging along a prize worth more than any of them would ever see in their lifetimes.

  We reached an unassuming maintenance lift in the dark depths of the mines. A Pervenio security officer napped out front. I recognized him. He was the instructor who’d been working the target practice alley back when Varus shot me in the shoulder with a riot round, proving to me that I no longer had what it took to be a collector.

  “Graves?” he said, startling himself back to attention. “You’re back?”

  “From the dead,” I said.

  “Step aside,” one of the Cogents ordered.

  He signaled the lift to come and did as asked without a fuss. “Is that—?” His eyes went wide upon seeing through the viewport of Kale’s pod. Months confined on Undina without a nightclub to blow off steam and nobody to talk to but Cogents… I was surprised he didn’t have a heart attack.

  “It is. You didn’t hear I was the best collector Sol’s ever known?”

  He stuttered over a response. Considering I was likely strolling toward my end, there was no reason I couldn’t augment my legend.

  The lift carried us through a hundred meters of solid rock, deep into the heart of the asteroid, where the gravity generated by its spin was minimal. Enough to make an Earther woozy the first time, but I’d been to my share of asteroid colonies. Most of them made the Lowers of Titan seem like paradise, and most of their riots against corporate overseers ended with ample blood spilled. At least they did end.

  “Mr. Pervenio is waiting in his office,” one Cogent, or maybe both of them at once, said as we stopped. It was like listening to an automated recording of a man.

  The lift doors opened, and I returned to the same shiny, spotless facility where I’d woken after nearly freezing to death on Titan. Even fewer employees were present now, and as eerily dirty as the mines above were, this was the opposite. It was like nothing had been touched in weeks. Sterile.

  We passed a familiar medical room. Doctor Aurora sat inside, pretending to be busy with a sample, it looked like.

  “Hey, Doc,” I said, offering a lazy salute. She nearly dropped her vials when she heard my voice. I’m not sure why I felt so cheerful. I didn’t even have to feign my smile. I was about to betray the man to whom I’d dedicated my life’s work, yet I didn’t feel guilty.

  Maybe it was because I saw what he’d turned Zhaff into. Perhaps I knew this was finally the end. That I wouldn’t have to keep watching my wrinkles deepen, my hair grow white, and my trigger finger go arthritic. Maybe it was because, after thirty years of loyal service, Luxarn hadn’t even known my name until it suited his interests, then stole all my limited savings for a leg I didn’t want. Or maybe it was because, over all those years, I’d seen the worst parts of what Pervenio Corp did to assets that didn’t keep in line. I’d seen the rows of sick on Titan, denied medicine because shipping it from Earth was too expensive and developing it on Titan wasn’t profitable. I’d seen what Luxarn was willing to do to any dissatisfied worker who spoke out against him—I’d been on the other end of the gun keeping them quiet too many times to count.

  Choosing Aria over Zhaff all those months ago had eaten me up inside because Zhaff didn’t deserve to die. He was a misunderstood kid, turned into a robotic killing machine by a father who kept him secret rather than face the shame of reproducing outside legal USF terms.

  Choosing Aria over Luxarn Pervenio? I’d been doing that since the day she was born in a sewer so that they wouldn’t take her away from me and shove her into a communal home where illegitimates wasted their lives. It merely took me a while to realize it. A better man might have tried harder to find a way out of this, but I wasn’t one. Unlike the murderous king I dragged in front of Luxarn’s unspectacular office door, I never pretended to be. I was a collector pulling off one last job, with payment in my daughter’s life and mercy for a friend. I was a father doing his best, which is all one can hope to do, and more than I spent Aria’s whole life being.

  “Wel… come, Malcolm Gra… Gra… Graves,” the mechanical voice of Luxarn’s service bot addressed me. I expected to see the odd, spherical bot floating, but it lay on the floor in a heap of tangled parts and wires. A victim of Luxarn’s temper, apparently. “Mr. Per… venio is expect...” It trailed off at the end, the light draining from its single glowing oculus.

  “Ente
r,” a Cogent addressed me.

  The two of them remained standing guard outside, and the door slid open to reveal Luxarn at the mahogany desk in his unadorned office. The lonely painting of ancient Earth behind him was faded at the edges. A month ago, I’d seen him over video, and he’d looked like a mess, but in person, it was worse. Gray stubble coated his chin, betraying his true age. I didn’t even know he could grow a beard. The bags under his eyes were so pronounced and dark, I was half convinced he was sleeping until he glanced up at me. His thin lips creased into a smile surrounded by crinkles I didn’t know the man’s perfect face had.

  “Malcolm Graves,” he said, voice raspy from yelling at someone or something. “You have no idea how good it is to see your face.”

  “Likewise, sir,” I replied.

  “For a moment there, I was worried this was all another Children of Titan trick. I haven’t been able to rest since you made contact.”

  Upon hearing that, I finally had to force my trademark grin. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “You don’t look it, sir.”

  He laughed and stood. “Please, Graves. You don’t have to be gentle with me. I expect only honesty from my newest director.”

  He stuck out his hand as he approached me. I hesitated in taking it for a moment, but only because I realized that he meant what he said. He, like all owners of large, Sol-wide corporations, surrounded himself with sycophants and loyalists. Like Sodervall. Like I had been for so long, happy to keep my head down and keep earning without spouting back.

  Honesty? That only went as far as the credits.

  “Newest director,” I said. “I hadn’t even thought about it.”

  “Like I told you: I won’t accept no this time. You’ll have to shoot me to get out of here poor.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” I released a nervous chuckle but was quickly silenced when Luxarn slapped the top of Kale’s pod.

  “So this is the boy who caused so much trouble?” He circled the pod. Only Kale’s upper body was visible through the viewport on the lid, and for the moment, he appeared completely harmless, like a tranquil wax doll wearing a sanitary mask. We were in Earther territory now, where his people were so susceptible to illness. He truly looked frail.