Value, but not listen to? Tyra wondered. Dread wormed through her stomach.
Somehow Ellis had managed to strike a killing blow against democracy while everyone was watching. They’d all literally signed off on it, but Tyra could barely remember giving her signature, and she obviously wasn’t alone.
But that wasn’t even the strangest part. The majority of the House of Representatives had also signed the War Measures Act, and there were more than four hundred representatives in the House. How was it possible that all of them had consciously voted for the proposal, knowing full well that they’d be paving the way for a military dictatorship?
Thanks to the War Measures Act and subsequent declaration of war, Ellis, Stavos, and Graves were now the sole authorities on Astralis. As far as Tyra was concerned, that was no coincidence. Those three were the same three that the Faros had fought so hard to reach. All three of them had been touched by the Faros.
And Atara. Horror and outrage flashed through Tyra with renewed force, but she clamped down on it, determined not to draw attention to herself.
She looked around the council chamber, watching the other councilors’ faces as Ellis went blithely through the rest of an otherwise mundane agenda.
Every single councilor wore an expression that reflected some part of what Tyra was now feeling. And yet, no one said anything.
Tyra had already challenged Ellis once, sarcastically, but he’d pretended not to notice. What would happen if someone challenged him again, but more forcefully this time? Would Ellis call in security and have them escorted from the room? Or would he appear to tolerate dissenting voices only to have them conveniently silenced later?
It was finally clear what the Faros had been after when they’d invaded Astralis. They were slavers through and through, but when they’d realized they didn’t have the numbers to take the ship by force, they’d decided to do so politically by subverting their leaders. An insidious plot if there ever was one. But if that was true, they could have called in reinforcements to finish the job long ago.
So why hadn’t they?
What else were they planning?
And was it too late to stop them?
Tyra considered what had happened so far. Twelve councilors, including herself, remembered signing the War Measures Act, and four hundred plus representatives from the House had just done the same thing, but had anyone actually signed anything? The signatures could have been forged, the memories of signing planted via their AR implants.
In order to do that, there needed to be more Faro agents on board besides Ellis, Stavos, and Graves. One of them had to be a high-ranking official in the Resurrection Center. Someone with high enough clearance to get in while no one was watching and alter people’s memories—maybe even their personalities—in a way that no one would notice.
One name jumped to mind: Nora Helios, director of the Resurrection Center. It had to be her.
Now all Tyra had to do was prove it before Ellis realized she was on to him. But even if she succeeded, she needed someone else waiting to wrest control of the military from Stavos and Graves, to make sure they didn’t get out a comms message calling for reinforcements from the Faros. Lieutenant Commander Wheeler, the one-time acting Commander of Astralis might be able to do that.
The pieces of a plan began sliding into place in Tyra’s brain, but she stopped those thoughts in their tracks. She felt watched. If memories could be planted in her brain without her permission, then maybe someone could read her thoughts, too.
Just in case, Tyra went about de-activating her AR implant, and then her ARCs, but just before she deactivated them, an urgent message came in from Lucien—text only. She hurriedly scanned the contents, her horror mounting with every word: it was about Atara....
Chapter 34
Astralis
“You’re the one who got hurt,” Atara whined. “Why do I have to get an injection?” She struggled violently against the pair of nurses holding her down.
The probe technician stood off to one side, looking uncertain. “I thought you said she agreed to this? I can’t administer a probe against her will without parental consent.”
“I already gave you my consent,” Lucien insisted. Theola began squirming in his arms, unsettled by her sister’s cries.
“I’m afraid I need both parents’ consent if the child is unwilling, Mr. Ortane. I only have your word for it that your wife has agreed to the treatment.”
Atara went on kicking and screaming on the examination table, her back arching as she struggled to break free. The two nurses holding her down each received a couple of kicks for their trouble before they gave up. Atara sprang up from the table, sobbing, and ran out of the probe room.
The nurses both followed Atara out, sending Lucien dirty looks as they left.
He turned to the technician. “Look, it’s going to take too long to get my wife’s signature. I already explained what’s been going on. Atara was touched by one of the Faros, and she hasn’t been herself ever since. She’s a security risk to everyone on board this ship.”
The technician looked unimpressed. Images flickered over his eyes as he looked something up on his ARCs. “Your daughter’s file says she lives in Fallside, is that correct?”
“Used to.”
“Of course,” the technician said, nodding sympathetically. “And I assume she’s going to a new school, has to make new friends, and has a new home...”
Lucien’s eyes narrowed, and he leveled an accusing finger at the technician. “I see where you’re going with that, but I know my daughter, and she’s not herself.”
“I’m sure you do know her, Mr. Ortane, but you need to understand that she’s suffered multiple traumas and dramatic life changes over the past few days.” More images flickered across the technician’s eyes. “I see here that there’s even a psychiatric evaluation on file. It details an incident whereby Atara witnessed a Navy corpsman beheaded right in front of her.”
Lucien gaped at the technician, who began nodding with the wisdom of his own reasoning.
“Given all of that, it would be strange if Atara weren’t acting out. Perhaps you need to schedule extra sessions with her therapist? I see she’s being seen by a doctor by the name of... Troosssaka’arrr.” The technician’s brow furrowed as he failed to pronounce the name. He repeated it to see if he could do better justice. He didn’t. “Troo, for short,” he decided, giving up. “She’s an alien, but her references and credentials are excellent. Shall I call her for you? Or would you prefer that Atara be seen by a human doctor this time?”
Lucien shook his head and glanced over his shoulder to the door, wondering where Atara had run to. “I’d better go after her,” he said.
The technician inclined his head agreeably. “Of course. If there’s nothing else...”
Lucien started to leave, and the technician followed him out. Once they were in the hallway, Lucien saw his daughter seated in the waiting room a few feet away, her head in her hands, sobbing. One of the nurses who’d been the recipient of Atara’s kicks was sitting beside her, a hand rubbing Atara’s back. The nurse saw Lucien, and glared.
“You should see to your daughter, sir,” the nurse said. “She is extremely distraught.”
Lucien took half a step in their direction, and Atara looked up. Her eyes were dry, the hint of a smirk on her face.
Lucien spun around to look for the probe technician, to point out his daughter’s disingenuous behavior, but the man was already walking away, off to see his next patient.
That’s it, Lucien decided. He held up a hand to the nurse sitting with Atara, indicating that she needed to wait. Then he texted Tyra over his ARCs to make sure Atara didn’t overhear what he said. He explained the situation, and the fact that he needed Tyra’s consent to perform the probe. He finished by saying, Atara isn’t herself. First Theola, then me. I’m afraid to take her home and find out what she’ll do next. Have any of the others who were touched been doing or saying anything strange? When he
was done composing his message, he marked it urgent, hoping Tyra would answer him promptly.
To his relief, she texted him back almost immediately.
I’m in a meeting. Can we talk about this when I get home?
Lucien frowned. I’m at the hospital now. It would be nice not to have to come back again tomorrow.
Atara’s behavior is something we should discuss together before we submit her to more tests. I need to go, but we will talk about this later. I promise.
Lucien sighed. Fine.
I’ll get home as soon as I can. I love you.
Love you, too... Lucien replied.
He turned back to find Atara sitting alone in the waiting room, the nurse having moved on with her day.
“Ready to go home?” he asked brightly.
Atara regarded him warily as he approached. “What about the probe? Who were you talking to?”
Lucien frowned. “Your mother.”
“You told her.”
“Of course I did. You tripped me and I broke a finger!”
Atara’s eyes narrowed swiftly at him, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t trip you.”
Lucien swallowed a sigh and took a seat beside Atara. Theola started smacking her sister and giggling.
“Stop it!” Atara snapped. “Dad!”
Lucien grabbed Theola’s hand to stop her, and she started crying and struggling to break free of his grip. He let go of her hand, and she began smacking her sister again.
“Theola’s being bad, too,” Atara said, leaning away, out of her sister’s reach. “Maybe you should have her probed.”
Lucien shook his head. “No one’s getting probed. Let’s go home.”
Atara re-crossed her arms over her chest and looked away, pouting. “Not until you say sorry.”
“Okay... I’m sorry, Atara.”
She glanced at him, then broke into a grin and wrapped him in a fierce hug. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”
Something melted inside of Lucien, and suddenly he felt bad. Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe Atara hadn’t tripped him. Maybe he’d tripped over his own feet. And maybe her opening the window and freezing Theola hadn’t been deliberate. Maybe it was all in his head and he was the problem.
Theola started crying again as the hug lingered and invaded her personal space. Lucien eased away and took Atara’s hand to lead her back through the hospital. As they went, Atara skipped along beside him, looking like any ordinary five-year-old.
I’m definitely imagining things, he decided, but his instincts said otherwise. He decided to put them to the test. Any good police officer knows how to coax a confession.
“You know, Atara,” he said slowly, his tone as mild as he could make it. “I know you tripped me by accident. You were just scared to tell me, weren’t you?”
Atara stopped skipping and looked up at him, her eyes wide.
“You can tell me. I won’t get mad. I promise.”
A sly look crossed Atara’s face at that. “You promise?”
He nodded, smiling. “I promise.”
“No matter what?”
Lucien’s instincts were screaming again, but he tried not to let it show. “No matter what, sweetheart.”
“Okay. In that case, it wasn’t an accident.” Atara went back to skipping again.
Lucien’s hand felt suddenly cold and numb. Her hand went sliding out from his as he stopped walking. “You did it on purpose?” he asked, frozen in shock.
Atara stopped and turned back to him, her brow knitted, and lips pressed in an angry line. “You promised you wouldn’t get mad.”
He nodded woodenly, and then switched to shaking his head. “I’m not mad... why would you want to trip me?”
“You’re always yelling,” Atara explained. “You hurt my feelings. I wanted you to hurt, too. I’m sorry now, though.”
“Why’s that... why are you sorry?”
“‘Cause now you’re being nice.”
Lucien nodded as if that made all the sense in the world.
“Let’s have ice cream!” Atara said.
“Maybe later,” Lucien said, walking on in a daze, and reaching for Atara’s hand again.
“No, now!” Atara screamed, and punched his leg.
Lucien took a deep breath and counted to three. It took all of his will to smile sweetly at Atara and hide what he was really feeling. His instincts had been spot on, but now they were telling him something else: his daughter was a sociopath, and you don’t challenge a sociopath until you’re safe from reprisals. “Okay. Let’s go get ice cream.”
“Goody!” Atara grabbed his hand and tugged on his arm, pulling him along behind her. They left the hospital without further incident. A blast of frigid air took Lucien’s breath away as he exited the ER, but it was nothing compared to the cold he felt spreading inside of him. He withdrew his hand from Atara’s to hug Theola close and keep her warm—and safe.
They crossed the hospital parking lot with Atara skipping again, once again looking like a normal, carefree five-year-old. Anyone watching them would have seen exactly that.
But Lucien knew the truth.
The Faros had done something to her. There was no more room for doubt about that. Lucien bit down on his lip to the point of pain, clamping down on the wave of misery and despair that thought sent coursing through him. He would find a way to bring her back.
He had to.
Chapter 35
Mokar: Underworld
The Polypuses hovered, their luminous bodies peeling back the night with a dim blue-white glow. Their hair-like tentacles waved in a breeze that only they could feel.
“What are they doing?” Addy whispered.
“Waiting for something,” Garek said.
Lucien stepped to the fore. “Thank you for your help,” he said via his suit’s external speakers, and subsequently wondered if they would understand him. He was wearing one of the Faro translator bands, but none of them were.
“I don’t think they can hear you,” Addy said. “They exist in a higher dimension.”
“But they can obviously still interact with our dimensions,” Lucien pointed out.
One of the four Polypuses floated out to greet him. That’s progress, he thought.
“We don’t mean you any harm,” he went on. “We want to know more about you and your species.”
The light emanating from the creature dimmed and then brightened a few times, but there was no way to know what that might mean. Maybe it was some kind of visual language? If it was, his translator wasn’t picking up on it.
Lucien shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
The creature brightened and dimmed once more, then it began drifting closer.
“Lucien...” Addy said, her voice rising in warning.
“If they wanted to kill us, they could have done it a long time ago,” Lucien said.
He waited for the Polypus to reach him. As it did so, it reached out with a pair of tentacles. They skittered over Lucien’s face, raising the hair on the back of his neck. Lucien took deep breaths to calm his racing heart while he waited for the creature to finish its examination.
“Ask it to remove our tracking devices,” Garek suggested.
Lucien’s eyes darted to Garek. One of the creatures was creeping up behind him, while the other two appeared to be circling around behind Addy and Brak. Four Polypuses for the four of them. Somehow Lucien didn’t think that was a coincidence.
“Why don’t you ask them yourself?” Lucien suggested, and gave a shallow nod to indicate the alien creeping up behind Garek. The Veteran whirled to face the creature, both arms snapping up to track the threat with his laser cannons.
Brak drew his sword and faced the Polypus approaching him, while Addy began retreating slowly from hers.
“Our weapons won’t do anything to them,” Lucien said. “Besides, they’re not going to hurt us.”
“You don’t know that,” Addy said. “They might be what kille
d all of those Faros we found.”
“I bet they are,” Lucien said, as his Polypus went on examining him with its tentacles. “But we’re not Faros, and we don’t have the same intentions that they do.”
“These guys might not know that,” Garek said, but his arms fell reluctantly to his sides.
Brak swiped his sword at the Polypus that had chosen him, but the blade passed right through the creature and out the other side.
Meanwhile, Lucien’s Polypus crept closer still, completely filling his field of view with its light. Lucien saw swirling currents and patterns in the light, but that brightness quickly swelled and overwhelmed him, making it impossible to see anything but blinding white. Lucien felt a spreading warmth and a profound sense of peace course through his entire being.
The brightness faded dramatically, and images began flashing through his mind’s eye; he saw Abaddon. The Faro King was seated on a throne, his glowing blue eyes sharp, his regal features stretched into a broad grin.
Lucien recognized that throne and its surroundings. It was Etherus’s throne from the Etherian palace in the facet of Halcyon, back on New Earth. Lucien shook his head, but he couldn’t feel the movement. It was as though he was no longer in his own body.
“What is this?” he asked aloud, but the words reverberated back to his ears a hundred times, echoes piling on top of echoes.
The image faded, and Lucien saw another place he recognized: a clear blue sky overhead, and white cobblestone streets sparkling in the sun below. The street was lined with picturesque cafeterias, restaurants, and shops, and colorful blossom trees from a dozen different worlds spreading intermittent shade. Hover cars landed and took off from rooftops almost-soundlessly in futuristic ballet, and Etherian families strolled lazily down the street.
This was the city square on Ashram, the planet in Etheria where his half-brother, Atton, lived with his family.
While Lucien watched, the scene flashed white, as if from an explosion. Details gradually re-emerged, but now the blue sky was black and clogged with smoke. Ash fell like snow, dusting the pristine white cobblestones. The blossom trees were on fire, and so were the buildings to either side of the street. Etherians lay dead and dismembered under thickening blankets of ash, while groups of Faros in black robes picked their way through the carnage, their transparent swords drawn and shimmering. Elementals. Up ahead a familiar gray-robed figure stood on a mound of bodies. He raised his sword and pumped it in the air, shouting, “Vengeance is mine!” The crowd of Elementals stopped and cheered, pumping their swords in the air, too.
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