Selena

by V Guy

  Kroes scowled. “Your logic is incomplete.”

  He shook his head, smiling indulgently as one might to a child. “The CSA has significant power, you are high in their ranks, you were an admiral in the First Fleet, and your legal work has given you significant clout. You had no need of my services. The council strongly favored you, and prosecuting them was unnecessary.”

  Her face flushed. “I might have done it because I disliked corruption.”

  He enlarged a territory within the displayed canton and marked troop divisions. “If you truly wished to combat governmental corruption, Central Security is the best place to be. You have power, respect, and resources. After this last set of disgraced councilmen and their blatant misdeeds, no person on the ruling council would dare speak against you. Especially since some of their key supporters went silent.”

  She looked at the map. “You think the Coalition will try again?”

  Kilam nodded. “Player participation within their alliance spiked after the previous attack, and new strategies were enacted. I’ve used boosts for my teachers, trainers, and masters ever since I’ve learned them; now they’ve done the same. I fully expect that new cheats are in the works, some expressly designed to combat an attack of the powerful undead.”

  “You don’t seem bothered.”

  The view before him was enhanced; a detailed view of active battle lines and reinforcement portals showed. He made adjustments. “I’ve already seen some of them at the front. Caused a few hiccups. I was already aware of advancements against the undead, because my necromancers’ difficulties during combat. They remained effective most everywhere else.”

  “There are seventeen cantons remaining.”

  “I’m gradually accelerating my advance, melee combat and magic skills are approaching parity, and I stole some knowledge when I reversed their whips.”

  “How?”

  “Whips pull skills, attributes, and knowledge.”

  Kroes set her hands on her hips and made a huff. “You think a lot about this.”

  “I think a lot about everything.”

  She stepped closer to observe the display. “You knew everything Norris knew. What happened to Rosen Cross?”

  His initial response was of confusion. This changed as he searched his memories. “You’re reaching back.”

  Kroes scowled. “Well?”

  Kilam hesitated. “There were many names in Norris’s mind, but I did find a Cross. The man was dispatched to Gemini and was reported missing four standard months later. The commander understood that term to imply his death.”

  Her visage tightened. “Could we find his body?”

  “That was years ago,” he replied, frowning. “He’s a poor trail to track.”

  “What about the people who did the job?”

  Kilam released a sigh, frowned, then turned away. A new screen appeared, and he assigned destinations for his other avatars.

  “Tell me!”

  He shook his head. “That would require another deal. What are you offering?”

  She stared at him in disbelief, her lips narrowing. “This isn’t a deal. It’s a command.”

  He chuckled and scowled. “Maybe you should’ve waited until after the collection was delivered; it would have been worth considerably more than a few people following orders. Seems a little unfair to accost them.”

  Her face reddened. “The people you killed on the Fifty-Second Security vessels were following orders. Give me those names.”

  Kilam looked at her in disgust. “They were mercenaries who had already expressed their intentions. The Remnant weren’t mercenaries, yet you excused your role at Salient as ‘following orders.’”

  “I want names,” said Kroes, her eyes narrowing.

  Kilam looked upward and to the right, where a mage held station on the crown of a tavern. “I understand your need. Thousands of survivors of a devastating, biological conflict were tortured and killed in a horrific manner for profit; their demise was covered and supported by many others under the guise of ‘orders.’ I’d kill them all except that I lack the time and the willpower.”

  She valiantly fought to control her temper, carefully enunciating her words. “You misunderstand; mine was personal.”

  “As was mine. I knew them, loved them, healed them, and then watched them die.”

  Kroes seethed. “I can hurt you,” she said, her eyes flashing. “I can hurt everyone around you.”

  He resumed his examination of a targeted territory in an eastern canton, a new hardness forming on his visage. “I’m weary of you; I’m weary of all of you. Central Security has no honor. How many times did a CSA commander send a commando squad after me? I’ll deliver Britton’s collection because I believe in its preservation. Beyond that, our business is concluded. Keep your word or don’t; I have no say. You wouldn’t honor it if I did.”

  She did a double take and stood back. “I will keep my word. I’m different from Norris.”

  Kilam shook his head. “You quite clearly, quite recently, threatened otherwise. Which will it be? At least Norris was consistent.”

  She lowered her head and set her jaw, stung by the insult. “Cross and I were close. We were lovers. We were best friends.”

  “And I care for my crew. I’ve saved their lives. They've saved mine. Does this mean the clock again starts ticking?”

  Kroes remembered his first two threats and shot him a long, hard stare. “No.”

  “Then I have a proposal. You give me all the files on the council members, their supporters, CSA leadership, private contracts granted to transports in and around Salient, financial transactions surrounding Catricel, Paradise, and the Focus project, and allow me the time to complete my purge. You get your lover’s killers in exchange.”

  Her old indignation resurfaced. She took several deep breaths. “All I wanted was a few names.”

  “And all I want are a few files.”

  “What you want is excessive.”

  “The double standard inflates the price,” said Kilam, scowling in disgust. “You were witness to atrocities against thousands and thought nothing of it, yet when a single man dies, you believe the universe should be upended.”

  Her teeth set into a snarl. “This was different. I loved him. He loved me.”

  He shook his head. “Your names are more valuable than everything I’ve requested. This is a steal. I get the information and the time, and you get your revenge.”

  Kroes chafed under his dictation. She set the terms. She established the agreements. “That’s too much information for quick collation.”

  “And you won’t have Britton’s full collection for at least a month. Do we have a deal?”

  The fundamentals of everything Kroes represented were rejected by Malik, a creature that should by all rights have submitted. He was nothing, yet he perpetually defied her, a woman with the power to command anyone. She checked her fury with difficulty. “We do.”

  51: Awakening

  Day 865: Pathfinder

  The infirmary lights were dim, making the status lights along the back counter and on the overhead monitors seem brighter than usual. The Fates rested on three tables. Violet and Evelyn stood by table one, taking final readings.

  “She’s good to go,” said Evelyn, glancing at her helper.

  Violet positioned herself at the table’s opposite side. Evelyn triggered the awakening sequence.

  On the table between them, the first Fate’s eyes opened. She glanced from the right to the left then turned her head to view them. She blinked a few times then rose smoothly, turning toward Evelyn and sitting.

  “How do you feel?” asked Evelyn, steadying her.

  The woman dropped lightly to the deck, smiled as she appreciated the sensation, then beamed as she saw the rest of the infirmary. “The dream becomes reality.”

  “Dream?”

  “Yes,” she replied, watching as Violet rounded the table to offer support. She raised a hand to ponder her own dark complexion then
smiled upon seeing Violet’s deep skin tones. “We were shown Pathfinder in the midst of our learning to prevent disorientation upon awakening.”

  “‘We’?” asked Violet.

  “Yes, my sisters and I.” She warmly grasped Evelyn’s hand. “Thank you. You’ve done exemplary work. I’m not certain we can ever appropriately thank you.”

  Evelyn looked at Violet in confusion. “You know me, too?”

  A bright laugh escaped the woman’s mouth. “We were told of your extensive efforts during our learning.” She turned to greet Violet. “We know of you as well, even if your time has been relatively brief. You may call me Furaha.”

  “We thought you might be confused.”

  Furaha chuckled again then glanced about. “Thank you for being here. It’s darker than I anticipated.”

  “We lowered the lights in case your eyes were sensitive.”

  She nodded; her smile of pleasure was infectious. “When do we wake the others?”

  “Now, I suppose.” Evelyn smirked and looked at Violet, shaking her head in disbelief and moving to the next Fate.

  This woman’s awakening sequence was similar to Furaha’s, except she dropped quickly to the floor and danced around the infirmary. Her smile was enormous when she turned. “Marvelous!”

  Evelyn and Violet involuntarily shared her enthusiasm.

  “Hi, I’m—”

  “Evelyn, yes. And Violet. It is very lovely to meet you.” She gave them spontaneous hugs and pulled back in glee. “You may call me Amal.”

  She moved to Furaha and clasped her shoulders. “You look great.”

  Furaha smiled broadly, brushing the other woman’s dark-brown hair from her almond cheeks. “Welcome to Pathfinder.”

  Amal made a giddy tremble. “I know. It’s great, isn’t it? It’s darker than I anticipated.”

  Evelyn released an exasperated sigh. “We lowered the lighting for your awakening.” She moved to the final Fate’s table.

  This woman rose from the table with perfect posture and the ease of a breeze. She strode smoothly to the rear counter as she tested her legs then turned, smiled to them, and nodded. “Evelyn, Violet. It is a pleasure to see you. You may call me Leala. Where’s Malik?”

  The two crew members marveled at the newcomers. They were physically the epitome of perfection, being slightly above average in height, blessed with finely formed hands, decked with graceful feet, and were controlled and formed like dancers. Their voices were rich, although varied in pitch, and their designed ethnicities were complex. From Furaha’s deep-black skin to Leala’s pale complexion, the first’s curly black hair to the last’s long, blonde locks, enough extra flavor had been programmed into their genetic codes to set them apart from whatever shade of melanin or tresses that companioned them.

  Evelyn made a helpless chuckle. “Of course, who else would you look for? Come with me.”

  They entered the passage, and the newcomers paused. They were unprepared for this view; projected vines grew up the bulkheads and across the passage, and tall grass and shrubs rose along its edges, turning the walk into a jungle safari.

  “Surprise,” said Violet, making a satisfied smirk. “He should soon be laying above to greet you.”

  Their eyes widened in astonishment then narrowed and brightened to join their appreciative grins. They approached the port bulkhead to see Malik emerge from maintenance. His head and neck appeared first, his muscular body followed, and his long wings trailed. They stopped in awe.

  “You didn’t know about Malik?” asked Evelyn, looking at them in surprise.

  Furaha energetically shook her head. “Not like this, we didn’t. The reality of him is impressive.”

  He locked gazes with them and the tension dramatically rose. He cocked his head curiously. “Welcome aboard. Welcome home.”

  They had shown gifts of expression, but Malik’s presence left them speechless.

  Evelyn motioned to each one. “Furaha, Amal, and Leala.”

  “Joy, Hope, and Loyalty,” said Malik in a mixed harmony. He smiled. “It’s a pleasure to have you here. Lovely name choices.”

  Amal quickly ventured forward to stroke the soft hair on his neck. “You’re real, after all.”

  “You’ve got wings,” said Furaha, standing and gazing at him in wonder, her hands on her hips. “That’s exceptional.”

  Leala strode forward and gently cupped the left side of his maw. “It’s good to finally meet you, Malik.”

  “Aren’t you just wonders?” he said, smiling. “How are you feeling?”

  Furaha approached for a closer view. “Like newly fallen snow, seeing how the ground responds to our touch. Or like a summer rain, exploring a palmetto’s blades.”

  He smiled, unconsciously leaning into Amal’s strokes. “Maybe we can give you a universe to explore. Where would you like to begin?”

  “What can we do?” asked Amal. “We’ve memorized the ship, learned about your crew, and heard about your exploits. Can we participate?”

  “You can.” He glanced at Leala. “And you?”

  She had been contentedly watching and made a thoughtful smile. “I’m where you are—that’s enough.”

  A brush of color touched his visage. “Evelyn, Violet. Can you give them the tour and get them situated?”

  Evelyn grinned and made a humored cough. “Come on, ladies, you’ll need everything. Let’s show you where you can get it.”

  James had climbed the ladder after Malik, observed the exchange, and stepped by his side when they departed. “Wow. No wonder they inspire obedience. They don’t need to be Creative slaves for my faithfulness.”

  “No, they don’t,” said Malik, the ends of his lips rising. “That was like donning a warm, snug garment on a cold day.”

  “And now?” asked James, amazed.

  “It’s still on, and is incredibly comfortable.”

  James patted him on the shoulder and made a boisterous laugh. “You’ve truly been suffering the last few months. Where are we going tonight?”

  “To examine some criminals’ minds, but that won’t require extensive travel.”

  James rubbed his neck. “If I’m to make our total an even twenty modules per tank, I’ll need to get back to work. Maybe it will get those enticing women off my mind.”

  The twins approached. “I think even I felt that,” said one. “How did that make you feel?”

  Malik released a low, wistful rumble. “Like I’m the most important being in the universe.”

  Amal, Leala, and Furaha found every aspect of their awakening fascinating, and they discovered passages and ship components with wide eyes and enthusiasm. Methods and procedures learned during their unconscious training now had application. The gym opened opportunities for use, the simulator triggered ideas, the bridge left them wide-eyed, and the galley left them salivating. Their final stop was the dorm, where they met the remaining initiates. It was like meeting family. Their dorm mates found fresh affirmation with their arrival, and the Fates discovered a home.

  ***

  Night was well established onboard Pathfinder when Evelyn took a late trek to the galley. She noted the open garage hatch and wandered in to see Malik working on the Dart.

  “What are you doing?” She moved closer to lean against the Rumbler.

  “Fighting a war in Xist, running permutations of equations for my Salient model, and performing scheduled calibration checks on numerous systems.” He stopped and turned. “Plus, I’m modifying the Dart, using two bots as assistants. Long-reach evaluations of the most recently discovered criminal minds comes later.”

  “What was wrong with the Dart?”

  “It couldn’t fly.” He returned his sight to the task. “The Rumbler has become too cramped, and riding the its exterior while traveling to Marshall destabilizes its flight. These modifications will allow my bike to rise to the travel lanes, stay aloft, and make a quick trip north. A low-intensity forward shield will prevent me from being blown off.”

  �
��A souped-up bike,” said Evelyn, grinning. “Is it safe?”

  Malik growled. “Even you could ride it.”

  She snorted, making a smirk. “What did you program into those women? They’re like politicians, knowing exactly how to talk to people, are astonishingly cooperative, and are unfailingly cheerful. They already knew how to use the galley and the simulator and appeared to have inside information about everyone. Blending in with the women in the dorm was a breeze, as if they had always been living there.”

  “They went through Helen’s differentiation program,” replied Malik, shrugging. “The only difference was they had the awareness of their current lodging and companions provided in advance. As to fitting in, I’d guess that as expired Bedele Creative slaves, they deserved a good reception.”

  “But they aren’t different. They complement each other.”

  He paused. “They’re empathic and partially telepathic. I expect they sensed each other early in the program’s execution and did as friends might; they followed complementary growth paths.”

  “And they’re remarkably gracious and welcoming. We can’t help but like them.”

  Malik nodded and smiled. “It’s ingrained. Even without the Bedele programming, they’re potent. I sense them in my mind now, and I try to respect everyone’s privacy.”

  Evelyn pondered the astonishing women. “I’m glad we awakened them.”

  52: Pinpoint

  Day 869: Stellar Clipper, Solar Wind Resort, Pathfinder

  Baron Hess reviewed his notes, flipping through multiple screens to establish his report’s timeline.

  “You’ve gone through those ten times,” said Grant. “You’ll have an opportunity to look through them again later.”