Essence: Book 1 - Septima

by Nick Braker

  Geoff motioned Chance to keep quiet.

  “Troy,” Geoff continued. “Look. I’m telling you. You’ve changed.”

  “I just agreed with you,” Troy said. “I have changed, but for the better. I’m growing up, facing reality. You three should do the same. You spend all of your time flirting with the Piran women, disrupting operations here. We’re fighting for our damn lives and you’re working on getting laid each night.”

  Troy paused, catching his breath. He was angry and could feel the rage growing.

  “Something is wrong with you,” Troy continued, his voice much louder.

  “Whoa, bro, where is this coming from?” Geoff asked him.

  “It’s coming from the fact that you three are out of control here,” Troy stuck his finger in Geoff’s face. “Need proof? How about you, Geoff? You’re working on a Piran woman named Skyler. You know she’s the daughter of one of the council members, named Ghetti, if I recall correctly. What happens to you when you break her heart and he finds out? And we know you will break it. Hell, what happens if he finds out a Piran girl is dating an Earth male? Have you considered the consequences? Lakin? Chance? Do you want me to get started on your adventures here with the Piran females?”

  Chance pushed Geoff to the side, getting in Troy’s face.

  “Bad move, Chance,” Troy said. “Don’t do something stupid as if this was Earth.”

  “Asshole, you know I can beat the shit out of you and right now you need a good ass kickin’. Since when do you get to choose what girls we can see? We know you’re sleeping with that brunette.”

  Troy leaned into Chance’s face, completely relaxed. He’d already prepared himself for Chance’s opening move which would be to push him back. Troy smirked at him, knowing the look would piss him off.

  “Do it,” Troy said.

  Chance hesitated but it didn’t last. He used both arms, pushing Troy back. Troy let him, grabbing Chance’s wrists. Chance’s push gave Troy momentum, so he jumped, planting his feet into Chance’s lower midsection. The move pulled Chance forward over him. As Troy landed on his back, he used his legs to launch Chance through the air, slamming him into the wall, back first. The fight was over for Chance.

  Troy was already on his feet, facing Geoff an instant before Chance hit the floor behind him.

  “You’re not Troy,” Geoff said, walking past him to help Chance up.

  The pain in his head flared to life, stronger this time. His vision blurred but he could still make out Lakin’s face. Lakin frowned, shaking his head at Troy. The three said nothing further as they left, leaving him alone in the room. He sat on the edge of the crate, forcing himself to relax. The pain eased but didn’t go away.

  It’s a simple headache. Suck it up. I need to focus on leadership. I can’t let my feelings interfere with what I need to do. People’s lives depend on me.

  Troy wasn’t going to get their help now. He’d have to figure a way to take leadership of this facility on his own. The council and Alta were the only things standing in his way. He left the room, heading back to his quarters. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something was wrong but the proverbial red flags he’d depended on his whole life were no longer there.

  Geoff is right, something is wrong with me.

  The thought faded away seconds later, forgotten.

  Chapter 12

  TRANSITION

  Pira - The next day.

  It was morning again on Pira. Troy suited up, planning to head to Alta’s office. He left the bedroom and had his hand on the exit door access panel when he smelled Septima’s cooking. He changed direction and headed to the kitchen. He smiled at her as he walked in. Every time he saw her, it drove him crazy but today she looked exceptionally more beautiful. She had redone her hair, adding a tousled curly look to it and she had makeup on. Septima had never used makeup before, such luxuries were not readily available. He wanted to ask her about it but he didn’t have time to engage in such trivial matters.

  “You look great this morning,” he said, grabbing some food off of the plate she had prepared for him.

  She looked down at herself, adjusting the front of her shirt.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” he continued.

  “I know. You’re hurting. It’s okay.”

  Troy kissed her, holding her close, longer than normal.

  “I gotta go,” he said, finally breaking their embrace. “Walk with me. I’m running late.”

  “Plans?” she asked as they walked through the dark tunnels of the complex.

  “I’ve got to get my human friends under control,” he said. “It seems my pep talk last night didn’t go well, which I shared with Alta. She sent me a text message on my comm-device, telling me she wanted to meet.”

  “I heard.”

  “Oh?” he asked.

  “Talk with Alta. I need to cover a different topic,” she said.

  “Oh?” he asked again.

  This time she answered.

  “Let me be blunt and to the point. I want you to consider approaching the council and make a bid for leadership. I’ll support you, bowing out and letting you take charge of our military. The people love and are completely invested in you as Tohmas. You have shown great leadership, not only as Tohmas before you arrived but as Troy afterward. They believe in you, Troy.”

  Septima always whispered his real name when she used it, in case someone nearby was listening. She paused.

  “I believe in you. More than you know,” she said, holding his hands.

  “What would the people think if they saw us holding hands?” he laughed.

  “They’d think we were in love,” she said, looking down.

  “They’d be right,” he said as the words brought a flare of anger and jealousy in him that quickly smoldered.

  Troy stopped walking, turned and kissed her. He could feel her heart pound harder in her chest through the jumpsuits. He loved the effect he had on her, but how did she know about his recent thoughts regarding Piran leadership? This was a huge coincidence that he could not dismiss. Troy had attempted to speak with his friends about this last night, which had gone badly. He did need help in becoming the legitimate leader of the Piran people and to find a way to minimize Alta’s influence. Alta meant well but she was mixing the power of politics and her access to advanced technology. Too much power in one place was always bad, but wasn’t that what he was doing?

  Yes, but you can trust yourself.

  So how did Septima bring up the very topic he was currently working on and yet hadn’t voiced it out loud? Could it be as simple as she was in tune with him? Did she know him well enough she could sense his intentions?

  “See you tonight then,” she said, breaking the kiss and heading off to Gen-Pop. “Work to do.”

  She winked at him.

  “I’ll think about your offer,” he said, making sure she could hear him.

  “Which one?” she yelled, laughing.

  “Both,” he said, returning her laugh.

  Troy stayed there until she was out of sight and then headed to the research lab. Why was this bothering him so much and why didn’t he ask her how she came up with the same idea?

  Everything around me feels out of control.

  ____

  Pira - Several minutes later.

  Alta, always at work, sat behind her desk. She didn’t look up but did manage to speak while typing.

  “Hold please,” she said.

  Was that progress?

  He grinned, taking a seat. Alta’s hair was neatly brushed and styled in lazy red curls. This was certainly not normal for her. In fact, the best style he’d ever seen on her was the one where she kept it tucked back behind her ears. He liked the new look. Her lab coat was missing and in its place she wore a light green dress that ended right above her knees. It wasn’t low cut but bordered close enough. He examined every part of her, eventually focusing on the cleavage of her breasts. Nearly a minute later he got up, reached over the desk and grabbed h
er hands, preventing her from typing. She paused, tensing briefly, but then relaxed, sitting back. He forced his gaze to her eyes.

  “Okay,” she said. “Let’s talk. You seem to think it’s perfectly fine to walk in, whenever you please, and interrupt my work, and I’m expected to drop everything I’m doing and talk to you.”

  “That is an adequate summation but you called me this time,” he laughed.

  She smiled back at him.

  Huh? She smiled?

  Troy covered his surprised look but Alta’s smile did please him. A flash of memory showed her wrists and ankles bound by handcuffs, looking up at him from the floor with a wicked grin on her face. She had blood coming from her nose and mouth. Sweat covered her entire naked body. The memory faded, completely gone.

  “You, uh, look lovely today,” he said, recovering.

  “Thank you, Romeo,” she said, rolling her chair around the desk and stopping directly in front of him.

  She was doing it to him again. A power play, as if they were opponents, sparring for control. This time, the power play brought with it more than mere annoyance.

  Troy saw memories of Alta and Tohmas. Memories of Tohmas tearing a green dress off of her and smacking her across the room. Memories of her looking back at him from the floor, blood flowing from her face, grinning evilly and of him picking her up, chaining her to the server racks in this very office and forcing himself into her, deliberately trying to cause her pain. He was hitting her, making her bleed, all the while she taunted him. At one point, Tohmas choked her while she resisted him with everything she had. He could see Tohmas’ memory of her mouthing the words fuck you as they both finished, exhausted and spent.

  “Tohmas?” Alta asked. “What are you thinking?”

  “Huh?” he said. “Sorry, nothing.”

  “You seem pretty happy right now,” she said, glancing down between his legs.

  Troy shifted positions, crossing his legs trying to cover what was quite obvious to both of them.

  What the hell is wrong with me? Were they screwing each other? Why beat her? I need to figure this out.

  Troy took another of the pills Sep had given him. It was more than her prescribed dose but his headache had worsened. What had he been thinking? Why did he come here to talk with Alta? He felt as if he had forgotten something important.

  “So, you came here to talk to me about your human friends?” she asked. “Their behavior is disrupting the work we’re trying to accomplish.”

  That was it. He was here to speak to Alta about his friends.

  “Yes, so I’ve heard,” he said.

  “Skyler and several other Piran young women are showing up late for work, leaving early and sometimes not working at all during the day,” she said, her tone growing angrier as she continued.

  “We’re at fucking war with a race of creatures hell bent on destroying us and they are luring key resources away from critical projects designed to fight these lizards,” she said, yelling now. “And your friends are responsible. Guess what? The rest of my resources are questioning why they have to show up now. They’re arguing that if three of them can fuck off, why can’t they?”

  “Fine, what do you suggest?” he asked.

  “Take them out of Gen-Pop and keep them isolated.”

  “Hell no,” he said.

  “I figured you’d say that,” she said, her voice calming. “Okay...”

  Troy kept himself neutral. He didn’t react at all to the fact that her acquiescence was too quick. She had something else in mind or she would have fought him on that decision.

  “There is another way. A happier way,” she grinned at him.

  I knew it.

  “Happier way? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Joliza has a process that can keep your friends exactly the same as they are, simply more amiable,” she said.

  “Drugs?” he asked.

  “Does it matter? The process is safe, reliable and reversible if needed.”

  Troy wanted to be angry with her suggestion but it really seemed like a good idea. Safe, reliable and reversible. He liked the idea the more he thought about it. She put her hand on his knee and the closeness brought with it the smell of her perfume. It was intoxicating, smelling of some blend of orchids and peaches. She really did have their best interest at heart and the idea of making his friends amiable made sense.

  “So what will you do?” he asked.

  “We can increase their desire to accept suggestions,” she replied.

  “They’ll do what we tell them?”

  “Forgive me for not calling you by your real name but I want to keep up the ruse at all times, even when we are alone. Tohmas, making tough decisions is part of the job. You know this is the right thing to do. They won’t know what we did and they will be happier for it.”

  “Make it happen,” he ordered.

  “Yes sir,” she said, smiling and saluting him Earth style.

  Alta would take care of them and that would take care of the resource issues. He couldn’t have Pirans corrupted by his friends’ poor work ethic and juvenile antics. They may believe the dangers were real but the three were likely unable to comprehend the reality of it. This planet was at war even if Geoff, Chance and Lakin hadn’t seen any real fighting yet.

  The Pirans had to avoid combat at all costs right now. They simply were not ready for a major battle, though they were all hard at work toward that goal. The Reptaurans were going to die. He would see to it.

  Chapter 13

  GHETTI

  Pira - Thirty minutes later.

  Troy left Alta’s office hoping to speak with the first of the council members. He worked his way through the throng of Pirans in Gen-Pop, focusing his thoughts on what he planned to tell Ghetti, the oldest of the council of six who had contacted Tohmas through Septima, telling her he desperately needed to speak with Tohmas, and soon.

  The Piran people still gave way for him and most of them did not stop to talk. Either they were getting used to him being among them or they understood when he did not have the time, perhaps both. Those that needed guidance or help in some way would stop him as if he were the law and judge over them all and he ate it up.

  The Piran people were emotionally and culturally more mature than humans. They were a peaceful people struggling with, yet holding onto, their pacifistic nature. They had become what Earth could only hope to be but, in the end, a race from another star system raged a war against them for their resources. Their advanced technology, before the Reptauran attack, was not geared for defense or war and simply could not help them. They had almost been exterminated and now only a handful were left.

  Troy knocked on Ghetti’s door. A movement at the corner of his vision caught his attention. He snapped his head around, seeing a brunette woman in a clean jumpsuit step back behind a tent several hundred feet away. He didn’t see her face but her movements were familiar and only one woman moved like that.

  Cienna.

  Troy started toward the tent but the door opened and a woman answered.

  Damn it.

  Cienna would have to wait until later. He returned his attention to the woman. Septima had advised Troy that Pirans did not show their age like the people of Earth. Internally, they aged similarly but skin and hair color changed very slowly in Pirans. She told him that both Ghetti and his wife were in their eighties. Troy kept his face neutral but his shock at seeing a woman in her late thirties and knowing she was fifty years older was surreal. She seemed in good health and her brunette hair and young skin tone made it hard to believe this was Ghetti’s wife.

  “Tohmas, it is good to see you,” she said. “My name is Sarette. Please come in.”

  Her voice quavered when she spoke and her steps were deliberate and careful as if she feared she might fall. Sarette had deformed joints on both hands and her back was somewhat hunched as she turned.

  “The pleasure is mine, Sarette,” Troy said.

  “My husband is in his study.
Please follow me,” she said.

  Their home was an exception to the other Pirans in Gen-Pop. They lived in a one story, wooden structure painted outside in dark grays and blacks. The interior was clean but sparse. Troy spotted an occasional picture or two on the walls with a few knickknacks on end tables and chests. The temperature in their home was warmer than the military complex. Perhaps the elderly here needed extra heat?

  Troy followed Sarette into their study. This room was made from a type of dark wood he did not recognize. Why should he? This was a different planet after all, something he still had to remind himself of on occasion.

  Sitting in a wheelchair, in the middle of the room, was Ghetti. Troy recognized him from Septima’s description. Ghetti looked crippled but, like his wife, he appeared to be in his thirties. Troy wanted to call bullshit like Chance would in a situation like this.

  “Tohmas,” Ghetti said. “Welcome to our home.”

  His wife wheeled Ghetti behind a desk near the back wall. Troy expected books along both sides of room but there were none. A study without books? It was likely due to the war.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Sarette asked.

  “No, thank you,” Troy replied.

  “Please give us a moment alone,” Ghetti asked Sarette.

  She nodded, closing the door to the study.

  “Let me get straight to the point,” Ghetti said. “I will not live long. Days, perhaps weeks, but while I remain, I have a goal. It involves a favor from you, Troy.”

  Troy kept his face neutral as Ghetti spoke his real name. Was Ghetti hoping for a reaction? A test perhaps?

  “Yes, I know you are human and the real Tohmas died in Paradon years ago,” he continued.

  “I’m glad you know,” Troy said. “I hate keeping the pretense up and the deception that goes along with it. Thank you for being candid with me about it.”

  “Well, don’t thank me too soon. I revealed my knowledge due to the nature of the favor I will ask. Any good politician knows that information is power. I had to reveal what I know because I’m going to ask you to do something dangerous.”