The Colossus Collection : A Space Opera Adventure (Books 1-7 + Bonus Material)

by Nicole Grotepas

  He wasn’t so sure about that last part. But he wanted to believe at this point that the things that would harm him or bless him were just figments of his imagination.

  “A ridiculous addition, if you ask me.”

  Watson cringed. He wasn’t startled, but the owner of the voice had somehow snuck up on him. He thought he’d get off the planet and be on his way across the galactic millennia without having to speak to this imbecile once more.

  Watson lowered the v-screen, fighting the urge to run or to hurl the electronic device at the idiot standing next to him. It was the closest thing to a weapon he had on him at the moment.

  He plastered a meager smile on his face. “Hello, Janus,” he said, barely preventing it from sounding like a sneer.

  “Happy to see me, as always,” Janus said.

  “Oh, yes. Come to wish me a safe journey? A happy journey, perhaps?” Watson asked, knowing the answer.

  “Hardly. More like a good riddance. You’re either stupid or brave, I can’t decide,” Janus said, crossing his arms and looking up at Fortune’s Zenith. “I’m leaning toward stupid, based on recent evidence.” He swiveled his gaze back to Watson from the figurehead in a pointed way that meant only an idiot would waste energy on a statue like that.

  “Thank you,” Watson said, to avoid heating things up. “Why are you here?”

  “To say goodbye, of course,” Janus said, grinning. It was no secret the man enjoyed lording over others, especially Watson.

  “Goodbye. Now you can go.”

  Janus chuckled. “You think they won’t turn you into food? If you’re lucky, it’ll only be a slave colony.”

  “And if I’m not?” Watson asked, bored already with the old arguments.

  “Well, like I said. Food. But the worst kind. Like cattle in a pasture. You’ll know your days are numbered.”

  Watson suppressed a shiver. He wasn’t really afraid that the Centaus would do this, but Janus enjoyed dancing on the primitive fears like a circus bear on a ball.

  “There’s ample evidence everything on the 6 Moons is peachy keen. Videos. Firsthand accounts from our emissaries.”

  “‘Peachy keen’?” Janus laughed. “Have we traveled back in time? To when you were a fourteen-year-old girl? Easy answer, Wolfe, fakes and brainwashed morons.”

  Watson clenched his jaw and breathed deep. “Brilliant counter argument. Why are you here, Janus?”

  “I’m glad you’re leaving,” Janus said. “I came here to say that.”

  “That’s it?”

  “And I hope your ship falls into a black hole,” he continued.

  “I think you’re going to miss me.”

  “I know you think you’ll escape your history here and start new, but you won’t. You’ll always be in my shadow, because that’s where you belong. Bottom-rung. Poor. And incapable of making a move.”

  It didn’t sting. In the least. In fact, Watson wanted to laugh.

  Until, that is, he saw movement from the corner of his eye that looked out of place. He turned to see what had tickled his perception. Nora waited for Janus near a bay of maintenance controls. Seeing her, Watson’s body responded, flushing with embarrassment and desire and shame.

  “You brought Nora?”

  “She’s my wife. Why wouldn’t I bring her?” Janus asked.

  Their friendly rivalry had turned sour six years ago when Janus decided he wanted what Watson had—his girlfriend at the time, Nora. Before that, Janus had behaved in a nobler manner when it came to his superior economic standing over Watson. They’d met at their Ivy League school where Watson had received a scholarship for disadvantaged youth, and where Janus’ family had an entire wing of the medical school named after them.

  It wouldn’t have been so bad, but eventually Watson dropped out due to losing his scholarship. Nora dropped him at the same time, claiming he didn’t have enough ambition. Janus took it upon himself to woo Nora. Not an illegal move, but, still, the move of a jerk.

  The wound still festered. Nora wanted security and a name for her lineage.

  But Watson had always intended to make history in other ways, ways she couldn’t have possibly understood—not with her sights set on security.

  “Don’t think she’s here to see you, you cad,” Janus said, sizing Watson up like they’d start punching and slapping each other any minute.

  “It’s so sweet that she wants to say goodbye to me. Honestly, I haven’t thought of either of you in months,” Watson said.

  Janus looked worried. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  That was true. No matter how hard Watson tried to get ahead or away from Janus, the man had made it his personal goal to meddle in Watson’s affairs as often as possible. When Janus made no move to follow him to the 6 Moons, the place suddenly seemed as inviting as the garden of Eden even with his slight unease about being betrayed by a snake, or in this case, the Centaus.

  “How are your kids?” Watson asked, trying for politeness.

  “Amazing. Perfect. Couldn’t ask for a better life, honestly,” Janus said.

  Watson felt the lie. If Janus was happy, why did he work so hard to crush Watson?

  Watson turned and began striding toward Nora, where she hung on the fringe of the pad dedicated to Fortune’s Zenith. He held out his arms as though to embrace Nora, one hand still holding the v-screen. His former lover’s gaze turned away from the console where a mechanic interacted with the screen, and focused on Watson.

  “Nora, darling, so good to see you. Thank you for coming to say goodbye,” Watson said. It still smarted—he’d be lying if he denied that—but his real goal was pissing off Janus. Nora was the one who’d broken it off between them.

  A part of Watson was hers forever.

  Her expression flickered between worried and a genuine smile. Her gaze passed between Watson and Janus, who marched quickly after Watson.

  “Watson,” she said in that clear voice of hers. He detested her for how amazing she was, for how easily she went from him to Janus over money and social standing. How could she make such a terrible decision?

  She accepted his embrace and then let go and stood outside of arm’s reach as Janus marched up, looking annoyed. He settled down as he saw his wife move away from Watson.

  “Are you nervous?” she asked, her face turned up to him. He hadn’t seen her in at least two years. Janus usually tormented Watson alone.

  “Not at all,” he said.

  “He’s very scared,” Janus interjected. “He’s worried they’re going to use them as food.”

  “Knock it off, Janus,” Nora said with a long-suffering sigh.

  Now that they were distracted with each other, and the pettiness that surely existed between them, Watson saw his chance for escape.

  “Well, it was perfection to see you again, right before the most thrilling journey of my life. My big debut, you know? But I have a long list of serious stuff to check off before departure. So, if you’ll excuse me. This is, I guess, goodbye. Forever, probably.”

  The two of them stared at him, mouths agape.

  “Well,” Nora recovered, “do be safe. We really don’t know that they are who they say they are.”

  “Yes, that’s true. You’re right. An astute observation. But, well, that’s also true of humans. Wouldn’t you say?” He glanced between them, hoping they caught his reference to both of their betrayals.

  He walked away, heading to catch a ride on a maintenance cart as it passed by.

  3

  “There’s not enough space, ma’am. You’ll need to make some decisions. What can you leave behind?”

  Watson lowered the manifest and gave her a steady look. They didn’t have time for this, for more of these battles with colonists who wanted to bring all their earthly possessions.

  The passenger, a redheaded woman whose curls were presently tied back in a band on the crown of her skull, gave a vigorous shake of her head.

  “Wrong answer.” She pulled out a v-screen and jabbed her fin
ger at something written on it.

  Watson sighed and inspected what she was showing him. “‘Colonists may each bring five hundred pounds of possessions other than clothing and essentials,’” he read aloud.

  He knew these instructions.

  “I see. So how much do you think you have here?” he asked the woman, Sally Anders, according to the manifest.

  She looked back at the large cargo scale and touched her chin thoughtfully. “Quite a bit under the limit.”

  “Sally, is it?”

  She didn’t answer, just fixed a level stare on him.

  “Sally, then. Look, the scale readout shows over a thousand pounds. In fact, you have close to fifteen hundred pounds here.” He touched one of the crates. “What are you lugging? Bricks?”

  He wanted to pop the top off one of the wooden crates, but withstood the urge. They were getting down to the wire and Watson needed to speed up the check in process. He wasn’t even supposed to be there, but the cargo master had called all hands on deck to finish the job. There had been too many altercations over what passengers were bringing. Watson himself had seen a few. Would this fiery woman be the next source of a riot?

  “You’re not counting the actual body of the crate, are you? Because those alone are probably twenty five pounds each.” She pursed her lips. “But maybe my calculations were wrong. I don’t own a large scale like this one. I weighed everything in small units in batches.”

  He sighed. Of course. “Well, can you leave a crate or two behind? Perhaps come back for it?”

  “Come back?” She laughed like he was an idiot. “I’m not going to the new world without these possessions. And I’m certainly not coming back. We haven’t even left yet—do you know what’s out there?”

  He ignored the question about what was “out there,” but wondered what she was implying by that. A chill passed over him. There were monsters out there, of course. But he was sure the Centau would lead them on a path that skirted any known beasts.

  “Are they essential?” he asked. “Look, I’ve had similar conversations with other passengers. We all have to trim the fat.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Then I won’t go.”

  “Ma’am, you’re on the manifest. Backing out now is a logistical nightmare—it has to be cleared with both the Centau ambassadors and the Unified Earth Government.”

  She was getting to him. Stubborn. Resolute. Irritating.

  But it was more than just the attitude, which he found himself admiring, if he was honest. There was something beautiful about her. Her hair was like fire, her blue-green eyes a stormy sea, and her expressive face was bright and open. She might as well have had a sign on her forehead explaining her thoughts. Current reading? She was going to fight Watson tooth and nail to get her way.

  He knew he’d give in, eventually.

  For now, he wasn’t going to show her that. Who was the captain of this ship anyway? He couldn’t very well roll over and do as the woman demanded. What kind of self-respecting man would do that? There was a voice in his head that blustered at the indignity of it. He felt his mouth curl into a smile and instantly regretted it when Sally noticed.

  “You think this is funny? Forcing me to make a decision between my books and records?”

  Well done, Watson, you idiot! Well, at least he knew what she was so stubborn about bringing along. Not family heirlooms or clothing or something useful. No, she was hauling records. And books.

  “And you think you need to take every single record and book with you to the new world?” He might as well step all the way into it, now that he’d gotten his feet dirty. “What about digital copies? They weigh hardly anything.”

  The storm in her eyes spread to her entire face. She was like a typhoon in hot climates. “Digital? Did you say digital?”

  He couldn’t help it. Now it just seemed natural to push all her buttons, and was it his fault that they were as obvious as the keys on a piano?

  He crossed his arms, tucking the v-screen manifest against his side, and nodded. He made sure he spoke with an innocence to his tone. “It’s quite magnificent really—all the words, music, and film of Earth condensed into small digital files. We can carry with us the entire history of humankind. It’s wonderful!”

  He looked up at the shelving of the cargo area. She was going to rise to the fight, he could feel it. It was a beautiful fight. He’d assessed her weaknesses. And he knew she would win, but that wasn’t the point. The point was the battle itself.

  “In fact, you may be duplicating our efforts—I do believe someone was assigned to that task. Might be on another ship. Which reminds me, we should probably have several copies of those on other ships. In case something happens. We can never be too careful.”

  He wondered if that had been taken care of already. He’d mention it to Con Taimois before they departed.

  Sally hadn’t spoken yet. He brought his gaze back to her. Her face was apoplectic, so she couldn’t actually speak.

  He watched her and waited. He’d really put a bee in her britches with that one. He glanced at his watch, an old, analogue affair—gold with working cogs visible beneath the glass—that was worth, well, probably millions. Can’t put a price on an heirloom.

  Yes, they needed to hurry this show up, but that time-checking move was calculated to push her just another centimeter toward rage.

  It worked.

  “Don’t try to rush me, you rat’s behind. I’m not leaving my crates. In case you think I didn’t already attempt to curate my collection, this represents only half. The rest I’ve donated to libraries and collectors. But now I’ll take them back! And I withdraw my bid to go to the 6 Moons. My gift to you—getting all the approvals. I hope you can leave on time. Wouldn’t want to hold up the entire expedition.” She spun and stomped away.

  Watson grinned.

  Well, what had he expected? He’d wound her up quite tight. She wasn’t going to bow to his whims or the arbitrary rules set by fuel limitations. OK, so they weren’t precisely arbitrary. They were based on fuel consumption and very down to the decimal-point calculations of speed and other factors that he trusted to his crew.

  Now that he’d really done her in, he had to redeem himself and save her. A little heroism wasn’t too far out of his capabilities.

  He jogged after her, weaving around other crew members with manifests who were escorting passengers and their belongings to the scales. She was halfway to the forklift driver who’d brought her crates in. Watson touched her on the shoulder. She stopped and turned.

  “What?” she spat.

  “Now listen, Sally Anders, I know it seems like we’re at an impasse. But let me see if I can arrange a way for you to bring all your priceless treasures along with you to the 6 Moons.”

  The shadows on her face lightened as her scowl melted. She lifted her chin and jutted it out in a gesture of defiance. “Oh, so now you may have some magical way to help me?”

  “I may.”

  “I’d ask why you’d didn’t just do that in the first place, but that’s more than obvious.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes. You’re jealous.”

  He laughed. “Oh, am I?”

  “You have nothing that brings you joy. And I have everything.”

  It wasn’t true, but it stung a bit. He’d already poked and prodded the woman enough, so he let it lie. Besides, he preferred she think that rather than the truth: that she’d piqued his interest.

  4

  Con, the Centau liaison personally assigned to oversee Fortune’s Zenith, strolled in that regal stately manner that made Watson want to slap him in irritation as they toured the ship.

  The carpeted aisle through the passenger floor absorbed their footfalls. It was a plush affair that felt like just a bit much, but Watson had trusted the designer who he’d hired to help with outfitting the ship. Anything less, she’d said, would be cheap and ugly. And if he intended to use it to ferry passengers between the 6 Moons upon arrival, he�
��d damn well better plan for that else he’d be captaining a zeppelin that was more like a shoddy bath toy. Did he want the ship to attract wealth or simply function as a bus in space?

  Her words. Which had been eloquent and articulate in their ability to manipulate him.

  The brass fixtures and wooden railings actually caused Watson to swell with pride. The passengers would begin boarding the next day. The cargo was loaded. Both the ship-operation crew and the passenger crew were completely trained. These were the absolute final inspections and check-offs before the journey began, the things that could only be verified at the very last minute.

  Watson’s hands were soaked in anticipation. He rubbed them together as he strolled behind the Centau.

  “Not to my taste, but you have done well, Watson,” Con observed, his head turning slowly, like a lion surveying the savanna and the pride over which it ruled.

  Watson paused to observe his reflection in the dark window set into a door of one of the cabins. He looked polished. He’d recently trimmed up his black hair, which had gotten a bit overgrown in the chaos over the past year of planning the journey and readying the ship.

  “I agree. Once we’re situated at the 6 Moons, she’ll be a beauty to fly and give me immediate work as a passenger ship. Right?”

  How would it be once they arrived? He’d seen the same video footage everyone else had seen of the cities and the moons. But that couldn’t convey how it would feel to live and breathe in another solar system once he was living there. Presumably it would be just like living on Earth, only more exotic, maybe. But that was just an assumption.

  There were so many unknowns.

  “The plan so far. Unless things change.”

  “Wait,” Watson said, jogging to catch up. “What might change?”