The Vanity of Hope

by G W Langdon

  He stopped outside the exerPlex. Was there enough time for fight-training against the de-tuned Viper and a follow-up recovery swim before meeting Luazen?

  “Amie, reschedule the Viper—plus eight hours.” That should give him plenty of time with Lauzen. He crossed the main living room, poured a Still, and eased into his chair to wait for the hard copy of Amie’s report. Iris’ mission logs revealed Rulg undertook more than ten thousand operations against Thomas Ryder’s Simulated War-fighting Exponent. This far exceeded his missions with any other combatant stored in StarTripper’s archives, and ten times the attention he undertook with the Sarra Chambers simulation. Thomas Ryder was hunting fodder in the beginning, but the last recorded logs showed he had progressed through the most advanced theaters to become an indispensable ally in Rulg’s deep-incursion missions.

  He went onto the window balcony to let the wide-open space clear his mind and consider what he had so far. Just before the first and biggest storm of winter, the pirate ship, StarTripper, landed in the Great Swamp—no incoming flight path, and landed during a previously unknown blind spot in Citadel’s recon grid. Jbir’s highly modified ship left Heyre 1646 years ago—carrying two Indigo bioPods, a Scout class Orb, and the associated Vipr to safeguard the Orb. The ship returned from an L-class planet with two occupied bioPods; one missing and the other undergoing evaluation. A Négus killed the pirates with the exception of Jbir who killed himself.

  Jbir would’ve come up against some tough negotiators in his time and would naturally know how to spot and deal with those who tried to influence his thinking. Yet the Négus made Jbir do things he knew would cost him a treasure greater than any he’d carried in all his guises, and a ship he would have loved more than anything, or anyone—except himself. Jbir’s toxicology report was negative and death occurred after the Négus had left the ship, therefore Jbir voluntarily blew his brains out.

  The Négus would make a powerful ally with its physical and mental powers, as Lauzen suggested, but it was too dangerous to control—as Jbir had discovered to his great misfortune. Why did a supernatural creature bring an alien to Heyre? He exhaled in frustration. What was he missing?

  The communicator flashed crimson and Amie’s 5D orb rolled into the capture web. He placed the orb in the display cup and took another sip as the StarTripper lightMatrix filled in.

  Survey ship—small but adequate for the task. A crew of three enhanced bioMechs—science, engineering, and medical. Rulg, designated navigator and self-proclaimed enforcer. Standard number for a small ship on a long space flight—and five original support teams of 4i forensic androids—too many, but… only three now. Rulg, no doubt. He magnified Rulg’s living quarters located in the rear of the ship and indicated to the storage vat beside Rulg’s bioPod.

  Placenta fluid. Human. Nine thousand eight hundred units.

  The slimy scumbag.

  Gardens and a gardener, of course. Earth seeds and hyper-nutrient storage tanks. Full cryogenic room. Medical bay… bioJacket.

  He slipped the orb into his top pocket, grabbed the beret off the wall hook, and set off for the two and a half hour walk to Lauzen’s office twelve miles away across the tarmac. A meticulously thought out plan was unfolding around him. He had no idea how it might end, nobody did, but he knew where to start.

  “Amie, load Sirion onto the shuttle and prep the Transporter for Gukre—to the Gate,” he added, to pre-empt Amie’s next question.

  Chapter 10

  The Carrier cleared the eastern peaks and opened its cargo hold. Three Hawks, preloaded at the Gate with mission-specific algorithms, slipped silently into the pre-dawn night and glided single-file around the side of Mount Goema. They beat their colorful wings above the monastery and landed around the outer wall.

  The guards pulled on the bell ropes, but the bell-clapper struck the rim with a muffled thud and stuck fast in viscous goo. They frantically waved their arms and shouted down to the courtyard. “The Federation is here. Sound the alarm.”

  The Hawks folded their wings up tight and their iridescent feathers dulled to black and turned smooth like polished steel. Talking back and forth, in short, piercing squawks, the Hawks lowered their heads and dozens of Bugs crawled from their open mouths down the monastery walls.

  A bioMech Dragonfly rotated its four beating wings and hovered vertically towards Mount Goema’s sheer rock face. Eight hooked legs secured the ship and the end segment of its long tail peeled open. Five Vipers abseiled down Tylinite cords and secured the perimeter, closely followed by a pod of three 4i androids.

  Reuzk landed Sirion on the only flat ground between the monastery gates and the sheer drop to the valley floor. He nodded his approval of the inch-perfect lines of the Vipers and 4i and wandered towards the cliff. He straightened his back, stepped to the very edge, and stared to the horizon, as a diver might do on a springboard readying for the pool. Many of his tribe had failed this simple test of having the fear of death before you—under your command, or one mad impulse away. Most either ran back to safe arms, unable to control their wild imagination; or lost control and toppled over. Very few could keep their mind focused on what was real and stand unmoved for two hours in the face of death.

  “General Reuzk,” Choen said. “You’re late. The clouds faded a month ago.”

  He kicked a stone over the edge and casually watched it fall out of sight “The Forest Dweller must have slipped,” Reuzk said, peering into the forest. “Odd that such an awkward creature would’ve come up here, when it did—one hundred and sixty-five days ago.”

  Choen heaved a tired humph. “The forest is full of many things that don’t make sense anymore.”

  “And you left Heyre for the quiet life on this rock.”

  “Won’t you please step back? The winds are unpredictable at this time of year.”

  “The monastery is a credit to your devotion to the old ways and the strength of your will. Being here takes me back to the mountains of Tilas. When I was young, we would visit the mighty Rilla Order on Mount Egila and receive fight training. Normally, Master Guol wouldn’t permit outsiders to learn your ways, but the Hill Tribes guaranteed the monks the freedom to live in peace from the barbarians.”

  “The Forest Dweller made the mistake of coming here, uninvited. Are you sure you want to risk its ire?”

  Reuzk turned from the drop. “It can’t have been easy for you to flee Heyre and come here. I know my soldiers would rather the heat of the Magrebian Plains for three cycles of Trinae than spend a single lunar on Gukre.” He knelt on one knee and looked Choen in the eyes. “My dear friend, we carry no weapons.”

  Choen looked to the line of Vipers and the 4is with their large, lidless, violet eyes that never blinked. “A friend wouldn’t come like this.”

  He put his arm across Choen’s shoulder as he stood upright. “It is with the heaviest heart that I must impose.” He guided Choen inside the monastery and halted at the 4i standing at the gate. “4i-3, stay here in case I need a signal link to Citadel.”

  Inside the monastery, the Vipers provided the heavy lifting of moving statues aside for hidden trapdoors, prodding the ceiling panels for false compartments—doubling up to reach the high lofts, shifting rugs and spreading the wall tapestries that hung almost to the floor over the stone walls. The 4is fanned out down the labyrinth of corridors and hallways to collate the dataStream web from the voracious Bugs.

  “General, unidentified organic scent molecules,” 4i-1 said. “This way.”

  Reuzk and the Vipers half-crouched as they followed the 4i down the narrow passageway to a door covered in the carvings of mythical beasts and spirit figures.

  “I’ll open it,” Choen said, pushing beneath a hulking Viper.

  Reuzk ducked under the door frame and peered around the small room. Half-closed shutters on the barred window at the end of the room framed the mountain peaks on the other side of the valley. A neatly folded towel sat on the shelf next to the wooden chair in the corner. He sat on the edge of the
wood-framed bed and tested its strength before setting his full weight onto the blankets.

  He reached over and ran his hand along the smooth wall, admiring the workmanship of the paper-thin joins between the slabs of grey stone. He tallied the faint scratch lines above the pillow. Thirty-two sets of five equaled one hundred and sixty-five days. “So, this is Thomas Ryder’s room.”

  The 4i’s antennae wriggled then pointed to the passageway. “The Bugs have identified a concealed cavity.”

  He eased from the bed, remembering to stay low as his beret touched the low ceiling.

  The search team blazed underground down the narrowing corridors and met 4i-2 waiting beside a cluster of Bugs clinging to the wall.

  “Open it.”

  Choen and Silak stood on the large cobblestone along the edge of the cave and a third monk pushed against the wall. The cobblestone sank into the floor and the thin crack widened in the wall to a narrow doorway.

  He smiled at the monks’ wily ways. “I was wondering when you’d spring this old trick. Master Guol would be proud of your faith to the old ways. However, he never had to deal with the Federation.”

  4i-2’s eyes flashed red. “A bioPod. It’s one of ours—model 7034, inception date…”

  “That’s enough information… for here.”

  He shielded his eyes from the luminous glare coming from the chests of the 4i and ignored the cold air that grabbed his lungs. An Indigo-colored bioPod shone in the wildfire. 4i-2 spread its palm across the crown of the bioPod and a row of lights raced around the front panel. A lightMatrix flickered into the room.

  Reuzk stalked closer to the life-sized hologram of Thomas Ryder. “Take the bioPod back to the Dragonfly.” The hologram blinked out and the cramped-over Vipers seized the bioPod. He broke into a wide smile. “You’re right, Choen. Thomas Ryder isn’t in the monastery.”

  “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, general.”

  “4i-2, navigate us from this maze to the bridge, outside.”

  He stopped outside the meditation cave, curious about the yellow light coming from within.

  “This way, general,” Choen said.

  “One moment,” he said, entering the cave.

  He leaned between the semicircular rows of candles and waved 4i-2 closer to the six-foot-long spike, cradled in ivory stands. “Does it match any known lifeforms,” he asked, but sure of the answer.

  4i-2 scanned the spear. “Negative. Organic, but the structure is unique.”

  “The Dweller got too close to the nest.”

  “Don’t touch it,” Choen said, as Reuzk stretched out his hand. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

  “Do any of us?”

  Outside, he walked up to the wooden bridge and gave the vines a firm shake. “Is Thomas proving a fast learner?” he asked, looking to the far side. “I’d be surprised if he wasn’t.”

  “The bridge isn’t built for your weight… especially your Vipers.”

  “Vipers, stay here. Nobody crosses after me.”

  “There’s no turning back once you crossover into a world that’s much larger than you can imagine or control.”

  He reached into a side pocket, drew out a length of Tylinite-laced cord and clipped the attached spring-loaded hook to the bridge post. A Hawk top of the outer wall grasped the stone with razor-sharp talons and leaned forward.

  “That’s why you’re coming with me—insurance.” He moved to one side and gestured Choen onto the bridge. “I would say age before beauty, but as I am fifteen times your age…”

  Silak stepped in front and led the way.

  The emotionless 4i-2 auto-balanced its spritely frame across the bridge without needing to grasp the rails.

  Reuzk marched slowly across the bridge and stepped into the cave. “There, nothing to it.” He declined a torch and stayed in the shadows until they reached the chamber. He circled behind the shrine of Goral towards the partially obscured monk, hunched slightly over, reading a book so large its borders spread to the edges of the table.

  “Thomas,” Choen called out. “There’s someone here to meet you.”

  “General Reuzk, I presume,” Tom said, turning around, and looking up.

  “I’ve come in peace.”

  “As I’d expect.”

  The other monks studying the scriptures moved from their tables and hastened behind Choen.

  Reuzk kept the light to his back and drew closer. “I’ve come alone, to show I mean no harm—only to talk.”

  Tom ran his fingers along the side of the table. “I don’t trust you. We’ve just met and already you’ve lied. You’ll have to do better. It would be best if you stick to the truth—after all, that’s your natural way.”

  “Is it? And how would you know that?”

  “You’ve been on my mind, lately.” Tom stood up and straightened his robe. “You’re much bigger than I’d imagined. And you’re in black.”

  “I thought I would dress up for the occasion.”

  “I saw you in a different uniform… the color of the desert. I’m guessing for camouflage, and… it’s hot… very, very hot. You’re alone. The pain. You’re—dying.” He placed his hand on the corner of the table and steadied himself. “I hope this was in your past and you found a way out.”

  Reuzk glanced to Choen. “He has a wonderful imagination. Anything else?”

  “I’m curious to know what came with you.”

  “It’s a 4i. We use them to gather clues when we’re on assignment.”

  Tom shook his head and pointed into the shadows. “There’s no reason to hide from me.”

  He loomed over Tom. A small doubt crept in until he realized Tom must’ve somehow meant the Vipr—and nothing more sinister. “Vipr, show yourself.”

  The large book he thought he’d seen before was actually two books: the Book of Light, of which he had a cursory understanding, and the unfathomable Book of Revelations. He reached for the staff laid at the top of the table.

  Tom snatched the staff away. “What do you want with me? You are bigger, stronger, faster. You control soldiers with powers I cannot comprehend. You don’t need me.”

  “I’m curious and have a natural desire to explore. Like you.”

  “You know nothing about what I like and don’t.”

  Reuzk knocked his boots together in delight. Curiosity would irresistibly draw Thomas to him. “Oh, I know lots about Thomas Ryder. Born June 11th in the Earth year of 1477, to parents William and Mary. Nice folks, and well-liked around Bentley.”

  Tom’s face reddened and he raised the staff. “How does he know this?” he said to Choen.

  “I’ve told him nothing, but the Federation have ways of knowing we cannot conceive.”

  “You were the gamekeeper of Alice Holt Forest,” Reuzk continued. “With a dislike of unearned royalty—a trait we share. You went to church each Sunday with your mother to listen to Father Martin. Such a good son.”

  “Enough, general,” Choen said. “Get to the point.”

  Reuzk scowled, and returned to Tom. “Come to Heyre with me—as a willing guest.”

  Tom backed against the table. “I am comfortable here.”

  “You’ll outgrow this little world before the end of summer. Then what? Great, unbounded, knowledge waits for you on Heyre. There you will find the answer to every question you choose to ask. Why is the sky a deeper blue on Earth than it is here?” He waved his wide hand at the vault door. “We have the entire Archives collection, and much, much more. Come with me and learn a depth of knowledge you can’t possibly imagine.”

  Tom looked to Choen. “Is this so?”

  Choen nodded in listless agreement. “Yes, but it will distract you from what is true.”

  “I’m tempted, General Reuzk, but I’ll take my chances here. I was brought to this monastery for a reason, or I’d still be in Bentley. I’ll wait and see what comes up.”

  “Understandable, but if you stay here, you’ll never get the chance to see Sarra aga
in.”

  Tom grabbed for the chair. “Sarra’s alive?”

  “Yes. She was the one who told me all about you.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “That’s your choice,” Reuzk said, drawing the gold ring from his pocket and placing it on the open book. “Recognize this? Stay here forever and let the chance pass to be with her again. When I walk out of here I won’t come back—and I will make sure you never, ever, get to Heyre.”

  Tom held the ring up to his eye.

  “I could force you to come,” Reuzk said, “but it’ll be easier for everyone if you came because you wanted to. On Heyre, you’d be free to carry on your study of the scriptures under Choen’s guidance—if he wants to accompany us,” he said, turning to Choen

  Tom looked at them. “Silak, too?”

  “Of course,” Reuzk said. “I wouldn’t want anything to come between them.”

  Tom pocketed the ring and looked upon the Book of Revelations “Sarra is alive,” he said, lightly turning the staff. “I have your word?”

  “She’s always talking about you. You are a lucky man to have someone that devoted. You must be very special to her.”

  “Forgive me, Choen, if I’m making a fool of myself, but I must find out if he’s speaking the truth. I cannot abandon her. General Reuzk is my only hope.”

  Choen placed his hand on Tom’s chest. “You must do as your heart commands. I do not know if General Reuzk speaks the full truth, but staying here, wondering if Sarra’s alive, or not, will eat away at you. Our Teachings require a strong, clear, mind. For better or worse, you have my blessing to go to Heyre.”

  “Will you come with me?”

  “I will do what’s right by you. Yes.”

  The 4i walked to the staircase and the Vipr trailed out of sight. Choen’s small steps dwindled to a listless shuffle. “Careful, General Reuzk, you’re not home yet.”

  Chapter 11

  There was a loud bang from the tail section and the shuttle lurched sideways. Tom ripped his seatbelt tighter and braced his feet against the back of the seat in front as the nosedive steepened and the shuttle rolled away from Nu’hieté. The Vipers gripped the handrails and powered up the magnetic soles on their boots. An indigo weave seeped through their padded uniforms and their concealed gun holsters unzipped.