Path of Justice (Cadicle #6): An Epic Space Opera Series

by Amy DuBoff

  Raena perked up. “When do we get started with that?”

  “Sooner the better, actually,” Wil replied.

  “My abilities came on rather suddenly, too,” Cris stated. “When I joined the TSS, I entered into an apprenticeship to get caught up to a Junior Agent cohort.”

  “Will we do that, too?” Jason asked.

  “Well, there were some extenuating circumstances,” Cris clarified. “Extreme stress can trigger abilities beyond the expected level.”

  Raena tilted her head. “What happened?”

  Her grandfather hesitated. “The Priesthood tried to kill me and I fought back.”

  “What?” Jason exclaimed, eyes wide with alarm.

  “That was the first time I ever ‘stopped time’, which is essentially creating a spatial disruption that lets you move faster than the rest of the physical world,” Cris explained.

  “Whoa! Will we get to learn that?” Raena asked.

  Cris nodded. “You’ll have the best possible teachers. Members of the Primus Elite group of officers your father trained—they have some of the highest CRs on record.”

  Wil glared at him from across the table. “They were a talented group to begin with.”

  “Even still, they exceeded their potential estimates by half a point,” Cris shot back.

  “A product of being around someone with your magnitude of ability,” Kate added. “We can only imagine what you’ll be able to achieve, Raena and Jason.”

  Jason looked over at their father. “You mentioned the high score before, but I’m still confused about what it really means.”

  As he folded his hands on the tabletop, Cris leaned forward. “The actual measures don’t really matter. The only thing you need to understand for now is that abilities have a very strong genetic component, so we are quite anxious to see what you two can do.”

  Raena looked to her father. “Given your ties to the TSS and all this here on Tararia, I’m surprised you ever settled on Earth.”

  “Well, some things happened in the interim,” he replied after a moment.

  “He should really be the one commanding the TSS, not me,” Cris said. “In fact—”

  “That’s enough,” Wil interjected with bite in his tone.

  What was that about? Raena glanced at her brother. “What don’t you want us to know?”

  Wil rose from the table. “Sorry, I need to look into some things.” He stormed off.

  Cris let out a slow breath and leaned back in his chair.

  “Did I say something wrong?” Raena asked hesitantly.

  “No,” her mother assured her. “There are some old memories that have been raised over the last several days. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

  “They deserve to know,” Cris stated.

  A hum of energy registered in Raena’s mind and she perceived something silently pass between Saera and Cris. Are they having a telepathic conversation?

  After a moment, Saera grabbed one of the pastries from her plate and took a large bite, seemingly on the losing side of whatever discussion had just transpired.

  “What’s going on?” Jason asked.

  Didn’t he just see that? Maybe Irina was right about me, Raena realized as it became clear that her brother wasn’t yet attuned to the use of abilities in their presence.

  “Your father’s role in the TSS before is more than just standard service, but I’ll give him the chance to tell you himself,” Cris replied. “If he doesn’t soon, though, I will, because I don’t want you to get misinformation from others. It’s one of those matters where there are some rather polarized opinions.”

  Raena and Jason exchanged glances.

  “It’s nothing to worry about,” Saera went on. “Enjoy yourselves here.”

  This must have something to do with the war people have mentioned. If Dad was in command of the TSS, does that mean he was leading that fight? Raena spooned some fruit onto her plate and poured a glass of the red-colored juice, which reminded her a bit of a cranberry flavor.

  Conversation was sparse for the rest of the meal, but with the promise of some time by the pool and a picnic lunch in the garden, whatever dark truth they were keeping from her was soon at the back of her mind.

  * * *

  No matter how hard he tried to move on and forget, Wil’s past kept coming up to haunt him. They don’t know what the war did to me.

  Walking away from the breakfast table would only delay the inevitable, but it was the only thing Wil could do in that moment. Ever since Raena and Jason’s abilities emerged, he knew that his role in the war would come up and he’d need to tell them about the Bakzen and everything he’d been through.

  However, to hear over and over from others that he was a hero and had done great things stabbed at the dark stain on his conscience that he’d tried so hard to lock away. The walls around his guilt frayed with every mention of him being a savior and selfless leader. His vanquishing of the Bakzen may have been necessary, but the choices he’d made along the way made him far from a selfless hero. He didn’t know how much longer he could maintain the front of innocence. Then again, admitting what he’d done might destroy everything in his life that now sustained him. Either way, something had to give.

  I need a distraction. Wil took a curved stairway from the ground level up to the guest wing. An investigation into Ryan’s background might be just the project he needed to suppress thoughts of his own past.

  With his mind made up, Wil located a private work room on his handheld and set a reservation. He followed the map to the office and unlocked it with his ID chip.

  The space contained everything he’d need for his investigation—a desk with integrated holodisplay, encrypted work console for secure remote access to the TSS Mainframe, and a window of the garden to help pass the time while he waited for the results of the analysis.

  He sat down in the swivel chair behind the desk and logged into the computer using his dynastic ID credentials, then augmented the rights with his TSS security clearance. Anything accessible without manual hacking would come up in the results, and if something was still sealed it could only mean that the Priesthood’s highest order was directly involved, as he feared.

  All right, Ryan, let’s see who you are. Wil used the display to navigate through the personnel files until he located Ryan’s. He configured a comparative analysis for Ryan’s genetic records against profiles in the central archive to look for his parents.

  Digging into a person’s genetic legacy was a strange way to get to know someone. Part of Wil hated that he was reducing Ryan to his basic past like that and would use it to pass judgment, but there was no other way to determine his origins. Why does it even matter? It shouldn’t.

  Yet, it did. The Priesthood had driven them all to evaluate their genetic lines as a commodity more than a measure of family. Bloodlines determined a person’s worth in society and could dictate their future path. It was counter to everything he’d been taught within the culture of the TSS—that a person’s position was earned after starting from an equal footing. Some people had natural advantages of intelligence or other aptitude; there was no way around that. All the same, everyone could find some area where they could excel when given the chance.

  When the Priesthood was involved, though, there was never that opportunity for someone to find their own place. Destiny was determined generations ahead and some fates were unavoidable. Perhaps Ryan was just a naturally gifted individual born into humble beginnings, but far more likely his future had been manipulated behind the scenes just like Wil’s. That gave them an automatic sense of kinship, but Wil was determined to keep a detached perspective until he knew what the Priesthood might be after through this latest project.

  Wil initiated the search and then spun around in the chair to gaze out the window along the back wall looking over the gardens and forested hills beyond. Long shadows still stretched over the landscape under the morning sun.

  Despite the massive volume of data in th
e archive, the analysis shouldn’t take long to complete. The search algorithm was set to only access plausible matches and run a matching sequence on those, greatly reducing the processing requirements.

  Wil idly spun around in the chair while he waited. The initial scan of public records completed after three minutes, but there were no matches. That’s odd. The search automatically dove deeper, accessing the sealed adoption records and other files in the individual worlds. Unfortunately, that information was far more disaggregated and the system would need to run a full analysis on each file rather than relying strictly on the metadata of the central public files.

  This might take a while. Wil was about to leave the office and find somewhere else to hide out for the rest of the morning while the analysis concluded, but there was a buzz at the door.

  He activated a video feed for the camera outside and saw his father standing in the hall.

  “Come in,” Wil said and released the lock via the desktop.

  Cris swung open the door and immediately focused on the analysis running on the holodisplay. “What are you working on?”

  “Trying to figure out who someone is.”

  “That sounds like a strategy to avoid confronting yourself,” his father replied as he settled into a padded chair across from the desk.

  “That was my intention.” Wil swiveled to face out the window.

  “Wil, the war is too big of a historic event for you to pretend like it didn’t happen. Do you want them to read about you being Supreme Commander in a history book or tell them yourself?”

  “Whatever they hear about the war won’t be the truth. Everything I documented was buried under the Priesthood’s propaganda.”

  “That’s all the more reason they should hear it from you,” Cris urged.

  “But what could I tell them? The ‘war hero’ story is a lie and we both know it. I was forced to lead a genocide. There’s no way for me to spin that in a way that is both truthful and doesn’t make me look awful.”

  “You tell them that you were a military commander and you did your duty.”

  Wil spun the chair around to face his father. “And that doing so left me completely broken. What about that part?”

  “It’s been almost twenty years since then.”

  “Sometimes it feels like it was just last week.” Wil glanced up at the genetic analysis still processing. “The Bakzen have been gone for a long time, but the war was never over.”

  “We’re getting close. We might have our fourth vote.”

  “It’d be so much better if it were unanimous.”

  “Still, four is all we technically need,” Cris said. “Besides, Raena seems to be a natural. She might be able to win over the rest.”

  “She does have a knack for getting her way,” Wil agreed. “Is that who you think I should name?”

  “Well, she’s certainly demonstrated interest and aptitude, so that’s a good sign. Do you think Jason is a better fit?”

  “No. He takes after you, no offense.”

  Cris laughed. “None taken. I’d avoid anything having to do with politics and negotiations if I had any choice in the matter. It sounds like you have your decision.”

  “I suppose, but I want to hold off on an announcement until I’ve seen how they act once they’re in the TSS.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “In the meantime, there’s this mystery to solve.” Wil pointed to the projection of the analysis still processing above the desktop.

  “Your mystery person, yes,” Cris said. “Who is it?”

  “His name is Ryan Pernelli—the maintenance tech I mentioned last night who appeared to have a resonance connection with Raena,” Wil explained.

  “Ah, yes.”

  “I wanted to make sure I didn’t misread the situation when they bumped into each other, so I arranged for him to go work on her broken viewscreen.”

  Cris raised an eyebrow. “By which you mean you broke it?”

  “Just a little light software recoding. But anyway, it sounds like he was over there all night.”

  “So it’s genuine.”

  “Yes. But is it natural or nanotech? That’s what I’m trying to figure out now.” Wil sighed. “And apparently his background isn’t straightforward because there was no genetic match in the public records. A Ward with a sealed file is pretty unusual.”

  Cris frowned. “That it is. Add in the strong telekinetic potential and that has the Priesthood written all over it.”

  “That’s my concern. Is he friend or foe?”

  “Hopefully the analysis yields some answers soon,” his father said. “While you’re waiting, though, why don’t you talk to your kids? If you won’t, then I will.”

  “Do what you need to do,” Wil replied.

  “We’ll be in the conference room next to where we had breakfast, if you want to come,” his father said as he stood up. “You’ll feel better after it’s over.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Cris strode out of the room and closed the door behind him. Wil massaged his eyes with his fingertips and leaned back in the desk chair. For every secret revealed, two new ones took its place. I need to face my past eventually. We need a clear path forward.

  * * *

  Cris found the twins still on the breakfast patio with Saera and Kate. They all seemed to be in good spirits despite the abrupt end to the conversation earlier.

  “Is Dad okay?” Raena asked.

  “He’ll be fine,” Cris replied. “It’s time we talk about some things, though.”

  “Did Wil give you the go-ahead?” Saera asked privately.

  “I told him I was going to and he didn’t resist.”

  Saera’s frown indicated that she wasn’t entirely pleased with his decision but she made no further comment.

  “Let’s go somewhere more private,” Cris said, leading the twins and Saera to the nearby conference room he’d identified for the conversation.

  The room was designed for visiting diplomats to have a secure place to make highly confidential offworld calls. Sound isolated and with retractable interior shutters, no one could see or hear what went on inside.

  Cris activated the privacy mode for the room as he stepped inside, which caused the shutters to deploy. “Sorry for the theatrics,” he commented, “but this is sensitive information. Please don’t repeat what we discuss here, even to each other when you’re alone. We can safely talk in broad terms once back at Headquarters, but around here it’s hard to know who to trust.”

  Raena and Jason nodded their understanding.

  Cris elected to stand rather than sit at the round six-person table in the center of the room. He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace in front of the shuttered window. “Our family hasn’t exactly had it easy,” he began. “Holding influence and power often puts one at the center of plans, and we were no exception.”

  The twins and Saera took seats at the table facing him.

  “Several hundred years ago, the Priesthood began genetic experimentations. They wanted to make a new, evolved race with stronger telekinetic abilities than had ever been harnessed before. This plan was twofold. The first component was to engineer a new line, called the Bakzen. The second was to introduce nanotech into the general population that would supposedly enhance everyone’s abilities—”

  The door chirped, indicating that someone was about to enter. A moment later, Wil stepped into the room.

  “I decided that if you were going to talk about me it may as well not be behind my back,” he said and took a seat at the table with his family. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “Not at all,” Cris said. “You can make sure I get this right. So, as I was saying, the nanotech was supposed to enhance everyone’s abilities. And it did, temporarily. However, the side effect was a phenomenon we still experience today: the Twelve Generation Cycle. Seven generations with no abilities, followed by five with—the strongest expression being 10th Generation.”

  “
That’s why Corine doesn’t have abilities, even though Michael and Elise are Agents,” Raena said.

  “Exactly,” Saera confirmed.

  “Meanwhile,” Cris continued, “there was the other engineered race, the Bakzen. As people realized that their own abilities were fading, the Bakzen became villainized and ostracized. Eventually, they were driven from all the Taran worlds.”

  “The Priesthood tried to pretend like the whole thing never happened,” Wil interjected, “and that the Generation Cycle had always been how things were. They control all the media and official data archives, so once they decide to propagate a certain message, it becomes complete and binding.”

  Cris nodded. “To that end, the Priesthood decided to make people forget abilities were once commonplace—it was the only way they could cover up their monumental mistake. So, they launched an anti-telekinesis campaign that resulted in most people hiding their abilities. Still, the Priesthood knew that the Bakzen were out there and could potentially pose a threat. To hedge their bets, the Priesthood secretly ordered the creation of the TSS—an organization to train people in weaponized telekinesis so they could fight the Bakzen if it ever came to it.”

  “But first, the Priesthood tried to eliminate the Bakzen completely,” Wil added. “They sent a bomb to the planet where the Bakzen had taken up residence. Except, the Bakzen used their abilities to disable it. They told the Priesthood to leave them alone, but such a powerful organization wouldn’t be bullied—especially not by its own creation. So, they declared war.”

  “The war,” Saera clarified. “Any other conflict in the past two thousand years doesn’t begin to compare with the duration and scope. Except, the Priesthood made sure to keep the war a secret.”

  “How could they keep it quiet?” Jason asked. “If it was so large-scale—”

  “Because it didn’t take place on this dimensional plane,” Cris went on. “The Bakzen tore a hole between space and subspace—the rift.”

  “And they stayed within the rift, growing stronger and plotting their revenge against their Taran creators,” Wil said. “When they finally made their first strike, the Priesthood immediately knew they needed a way to fight back. They began manipulating the bloodlines of those least affected by the nanotech that caused the Generation Cycle—a process of selectively pairing to create a new line with enhanced abilities just like their enemy, only one that evolved naturally rather than being created directly in a lab. The result of those efforts was known as the Cadicle, a term borrowed from theological texts.” Wil couldn’t meet their gazes. “That person is me.”