The Circuit: The Complete Saga

by Bruno, Rhett C.

  “Slow down!” Sage laughed, almost tripping over some stray rocks as their brisk pace turned into a jog.

  They entered the pressurized decontamination chamber of the facility, where the tight grid of beams comprising the electrostatic cleaning system passed through them. It made Sage’s whole body tingle. When the process was complete, she and Caleb stepped through an airtight hatch.

  She removed her helmet and used two human hands to untie her long auburn hair, allowing it to tumble down over her shoulders. Then she removed her enviro-suit. Underneath, she wore a tight black boilersuit with the letters NET printed in green over her right breast—the standard uniform of a Tribunal soldier outside his or her armor.

  Caleb did the same, and with his helmet off, she could see the determination pouring through his expression. She couldn’t help but be reminded of how much he looked like his father.

  “Welcome back,” said one of the researchers sitting at a table in the refectory.

  Caleb offered a cursory nod as he hurried toward a closed door at the opposite end of the room. He placed his eye against a retinal scanner and entered a password into a keypad.

  “You ready?” he asked Sage.

  Before she could answer, he pulled her through the entrance and into a small brightly lit lab. There were holoscreens projected all over the walls, displaying detailed readings of the Earth and of the lake. Her gaze was instantly drawn toward the lab’s center, where a container filled with water was suspended between two bundles of circuits. In it floated a wiry green plant.

  “Have you ever seen anything like it?” Caleb asked.

  The tips of her fingers pressed against the glass, wiping away cool droplets of condensation. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen vegetation—she’d grown up on New Terrene, where the Tribune proudly displayed trees and vertical farms—but she didn’t need Caleb to tell her what made that particular plant so special. Despite how undistinguished it might have appeared.

  “It started growing at the bottom of the lake,” Caleb explained, his mouth hardly able to keep up with his thoughts. “We did it, Sage. All our hard work and it finally happened.” He laid his hand over hers and placed a gentle kiss on the side of her neck. “Somehow, on this forsaken rock called Earth, life found a way.”

  “For more than five hundred years it’s been barren,” she whispered. “We have to inform the Tribune, Caleb.”

  “We can’t.” He grasped her shoulders. “Not yet.”

  Sage’s brow furrowed. She took a long stride backwards. “You do you realize what this means, don’t you? It is a sign from the Spirit that we are nearly worthy!”

  “The Tribune wouldn’t see it that way. They’ll claim that I used artificial means to fabricate life, that I’ve defied the nature of the Spirit. The only reason they let me set up a facility here in the first place was because of who my father is, and they remind me time and time again how I’m wasting my time. I can’t allow them to see anything until there is more proof to show that we’re making a real difference.”

  Being a loyal soldier of the New Earth Tribunal, serving as all citizens must, Sage couldn’t help but take up a defensive tone. “That’s not true. Whether or not you were involved, the Spirit has permitted life to grow here. This is a miracle. The council would never be able to deny that.”

  “Maybe not, but I don’t want them stepping in yet. This.” He reached out and pressed his palm against the glass. “This tiny plant is my life’s work. Perhaps you and the Tribune are right, and all the Earth needs is time, but what if they’re wrong?”

  “They’re not.”

  They’d had this argument hundreds of times before. Sage had always known Caleb to be a skeptic. Ever since they met as children while Cassius was touring New Terrene after the Earth Reclaimer War ended and he was hailed as a hero. It was the one thing about him that she couldn’t stand, but she dealt with it because of the man she knew him to be.

  “Don’t be like that, Sage,” Caleb groused. “I’m not trying to insult you. Just imagine, for a second, that they are wrong, and we never take action. That the rumors are true, and it was the Ancients who left the planet like this by tearing up the surface to mine more gravitum and other resources than they could ever need. I would be damned not to at least try to rectify their mistakes!”

  “They’re only rumors.” Sage knelt, touching the floor with the tips of her fingers, and began murmuring prayers. “Redemption is near. May my faith be eternal and unwavering so that I may one day walk the Earth’s untainted surface.” She paused, gazing up at Caleb and the plant. “With those deserving at my side.”

  “Whatever I believe, I won’t let the Tribune come in the way of our work yet,” he said. “One plant isn’t enough to prove anything. If we can begin to mend the land and the air, at least in this region, then they would have no choice but to believe that Earth might be ready to receive us with a little work instead of prayer. That we can save our homeworld now. I know you’re loyal, but please keep this our secret. All I seek—”

  Sage stood, placed her finger over his mouth, and pulled his head close. “You are your father’s son.” She smiled before pressing her lips against his. “I’ll stay quiet only so that you can realize what a miracle this is for yourself.”

  “Thank you, Sage.” He chuckled softly to himself. “Who knows, maybe if I’m right, people will look at me the same way they look at him.”

  “Oh, stop. Cassius loves you no matter what.”

  “He ended the most devastating war in the history of the Circuit when he was barely older than I am now. I don’t want to waste my entire life toiling with a foolish dream that so many others wasted theirs on.”

  “You won’t. You’ll help breathe life back into this wasteland if that’s your fate, and the Tribune will rejoice in your name. And I, Sage Volus, will love you always.”

  Caleb cracked a grin and kissed her. “You sure know how to dream.”

  “I learned from the best.”

  She reached into his pocket and pulled out a spherical holorecorder. She remembered when Cassius gave it to him. How he complained that his father never wanted to spend time with him unless they were a solar system apart.

  “Now, speaking of your father, isn’t it his birthday today?” Sage said.

  “I almost forgot!” Caleb snatched the device and hurried over to place it down on a nearby table. He wasn’t as cynical as he sometimes liked to pretend.

  “Of course you did,” she said. “I’m going to go see if there’s anything to drink in this place while you message him.”

  “You don’t want to say hello?”

  She wanted to, but she always found it uncomfortable addressing Cassius if he didn’t do so first. Despite knowing him since she was a girl and being engaged to his son, she never knew what to say. He was both a member of the Tribunal Council and the greatest hero the Tribune had ever known. Her words to him never felt deserving.

  “That’s alright,” she said. “I see him enough around New Terrene.”

  “I’ll give him your best, then,” Caleb replied.

  Sage wandered the lab but stopped by a beeping holoscreen displaying a wireframe image of Earth. A blinking red blob blossomed in one area.

  “Caleb, something over here doesn’t look right,” she called back to him. All the text and icons accompanying it might as well have been written by aliens to her.

  “I’m sure it’s fine. We’re in the least volatile sector on the planet,” he responded calmly. “I’ll check it out after.” Then, as she continued forward, she heard him power on the device and begin recording his message. “Happy birthday, Dad! I bet you thought I’d forget.”

  Sage stifled a smile as she crossed the facility into the kitchen. The other researchers didn’t pay her much attention, but she didn’t mind. As a female soldier patrolling the streets of New Terrene, she was used to men’s gazes lingering on her. It was nice to be around people whose minds were occupied with other business.


  She grabbed a glass and swiped her hand in front of the sink to turn on the faucet. Clear, potable water poured out. It wasn’t directly from the lake—there was a decontamination plant adjacent to the lab that the water filtered through—but as she walked over to a wide viewport overlooking the body of water, she realized that she’d never before directly seen the source from which she was drinking.

  In New Terrene it came from Mars’ polar caps hundreds of kilometers away. She took a long sip, letting the cold liquid swish around her gums. The taste was the same as ever, but still she couldn’t help being amazed.

  With Caleb still recording, she stood staring through the viewport, picturing herself one day walking outside unprotected, scooping up a handful of water to drink right from the lake itself. She imagined green grass growing along its edge, and the rippling surface of the liquid painted by a soft, blue sky.

  “One day,” she sighed under her breath. It was difficult to maintain that image when all that stared back was an arid landscape and a scorched sky.

  A violent tremor shook the complex, knocking her off her feet. The glass flew from her hand and shattered against the floor. The other researchers also wound up on their backs, chairs tipped onto the floor along with equipment and utensils.

  “Caleb!” she shouted. She scrambled to her feet and sped toward his lab. Caleb had run over to the same screen she’d mentioned to him earlier.

  “What does it say?” she asked. Whatever he was reading made the color drain from his cheeks.

  “That can’t be,” he said. He struck commands as fast as he could, rifling through lines of data. “This is supposed to be a dead zone.”

  Another tremor knocked them on top of each other. The entire lab flickered. Sage’s military training kicked in and she bounced up to her feet like a feline, hoisting Caleb up with her.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  “Intense seismic activity just beneath us,” he said, breathless. “We have to get into the air. Now!”

  He grabbed her hand and they hurried out into the galley, where the other researchers struggled to gather their bearings. The shaking of the facility had become continuous. Light fixtures on the ceiling swung wildly. Equipment fell from shelves, and the viewport facing the lake cracked along its edges.

  “Get to the transports!” Caleb ordered all the others.

  He ran with Sage down a hall at the back of the complex. When they finally reached the exit, Caleb paused. There was no time to put protective suits on, but a few minutes in Earth’s open air was unlikely to do any damage.

  They held their breath and sprinted out onto the landing pad. The rest of the researchers followed swiftly behind them. Once the facility had been evacuated, two pilots exited the towering control tower nearby and staggered across the shaking platform toward a pair of small transports.

  Caleb signaled with urgency to the other researchers for them to board the first vessel, and then he pulled Sage toward the second. On their way, another, even more powerful upheaval in Earth’s crust threw them to the ground. A fissure started to form along the length of the landing pad. The deck started tilting, but Caleb and Sage were able to pull each other to their feet and reach the transport.

  “Get in, Caleb!” the pilot yelled as he strapped himself in. “This place is about to be torn to pieces!”

  Caleb helped Sage up and then, again, he hesitated. The tears accruing in his pale eyes made her heart plummet. She knew that expression.

  “Come on,” she urged him.

  He shook his head. “The plant.” He turned and sprinted back toward the facility as fast as he could.

  “He’s the son of a Tribune. Do not leave us behind!” Sage ordered the pilot before leaping out of the transport. She followed him back into the facility, hardly able to traverse the halls without being rocked from side to side.

  The entire floor was coming undone as the earth beneath it split apart. In the galley, the tables were flipped upside down, and even the building’s structure was beginning to rend.

  Another potent quake hurled her across the room, slamming her into a wall. Ignoring the sharp pain exploding in her side, she spotted Caleb holding onto the side of the door leading into the private lab. He cradled the plant’s container in his arm. Using the walls for support, he made his way to her and helped her up.

  They exchanged a nod and set off. Dodging falling equipment and the widening cracks in the floor, they moved as fast as they could back through the facility. Every few feet they were pitched off balance, but by using each other, they were able to make it all the way to the exit.

  When they emerged, the landing pad was splitting in half by a rapidly expanding fissure. The pilot of the first transport started taking off. The ship’s ion drive flared bright blue as it lifted up, but a tremor more powerful than all of the others that preceded it bellowed from the very core of the Earth. The control tower snapped in half. Jagged strips of its metal structure bowled over to clip the first transport’s engines in midair.

  The ship dipped to the side. The pilot desperately tried to regain control as it spun, but he couldn’t. It crashed into the ground, exploding in brilliant shades of blue and orange. Shrapnel shot out in every direction. Sage reached out as if to block a piece, but it shredded her arm on its way toward piercing Caleb’s chest.

  They howled simultaneously, falling to their knees. Blood sprayed everywhere. Caleb wasn’t moving. The pain was too excruciating to think or see straight. She just kept them upright with her healthy arm and dragged both of their bodies forward. It took all of her will to make it just a few meters, and when her body was about to give out, the surviving pilot sprinted across the pad and grabbed onto them both.

  “I’ve got you!” he gasped.

  He helped Sage haul Caleb across the landing pad and into the transport before yet another tremendous quake. Both of them heaved Caleb up before she was helped in. Caleb was convulsing, blood bubbling out of his mouth as they laid him down. Sage collapsed beside him, so exhausted she could hardly breathe. Her mangled arm remained pinned against his chest by a metal shard.

  “It’s going to be okay…” she whispered. “I promise… We’ll make it…”

  “Hatch is closing!” the pilot announced.

  The ship’s cabin doors slammed shut. Everything inside rattled as the engines kicked in. The rest of the control tower began to topple over, but they shot forward just beneath it, the landing gear scraping off across the roof of the facility.

  As the ship angled up into the sky, Sage noticed Caleb’s holorecorder rolling out of his pocket. She grabbed it with her mobile arm and placed it in his palm. He didn’t say anything, but his fingers squeezed weakly around it and her hand. He was alive.

  “We’ll make it…” she promised as she laid her head on his shoulder. “We have to…”

  * * *

  Sage gasped for air as if she had been plunged underwater. Her eyes sprang open, but all she could see was a blur of white and silver blobs spinning all around her. The smell of the blood draining out of her arm was so tangible that she could taste it.

  She groped desperately with her natural hand, expecting to find a mangled stump of an arm, and then let out a sigh of relief when it fell upon the smooth metal of her artificial limb.

  Just a dream, she thought, just a dream.

  Only, it wasn’t. It was a memory from before she was an executor, one she’d spent years burying deep in the bowels of her mind. It was that day that convinced her to become an executor in the first place. She’d hoped that by doing so she’d never fail anyone she loved in the face of adversity again. That she might one day redeem him in the eyes of the Spirit for what he’d done, so that he might one day join its essence along with the fallen faithful.

  She managed to swing her feet off the edge of a hovering bed, pulling out needles she didn’t realize were plugged in all around her body. The movement caused a sudden pain to shoot up the back of her neck. She lurched and fell forward, her
artificial arm keeping her nose from slamming onto the floor.

  Images from her past flashed through her mind again, each memory aggravating old wounds. She began drawing long, calming breaths. As she did, she placed the thumb and forefinger of her human hand over her temples to try to force out the rampant thoughts.

  Once it started to subside a bit, she used the bed to pull herself to her feet. Her legs were still woozy from being asleep for Spirit knows how long.

  Where in the name of the Ancients am I? she wondered.

  She began to shuffle along, using the hovering bed as a crutch to bear most of her weight. Her vision was returning, the blur of shapes beginning to weave together into details. White plate-metal walls surrounded her, along with holoscreens, IV drips, and countless other medical apparatuses. It was definitely a lab, but not the one on Titan where she last remembered being.

  She located a strip of lighting outside an open doorway, and she headed toward it, the bed sliding alongside her.

  “You are still recovering, Executor Volus,” a strangely robotic, feminine voice echoed from somewhere in the ceiling. “Please return to the monitoring station.”

  Sage ignored it. She dragged her legs forward, feeling the strength augment in them with every step. By the time she reached the exit, she was able to step away from the bed and out into a corridor. She still needed the wall for support, but at least she could walk.

  Everything around her looked familiar, though she couldn’t place why. The sleek walls and ceiling reminded her of a place she’d been, and the mechanical systems hummed a recognizable melody. She attempted to reach into her suddenly rampant stream of memories to grasp the answer, but it was difficult enough to keep her brain from showing her Caleb’s death over and over again.

  Arriving at a horizontal viewport, she paused for a rest. All the walking had only made her fainter.

  Sage placed her hands along the top of the viewport’s burnished sill and leaned her sweating forehead against the glass. She took a few deep breaths and looked out through it, having to blink a few times to make sure that what she saw wasn’t just a figment of her imagination.