by Josh Leone
“I’m very sorry, sir. The sample is proving more complex than we’d anticipated.” The bearer of the bad news was the director of the facility, Dr. Sean Levin. Dr. Levin was also the lead geneticist on the single project for which the facility had been built.
Levin had been recruited by Vashek years ago. The good doctor came from a hereditary line of geniuses in the field of genetics. Levin’s great-grandfather, in his time, had been lead scientist overseeing engineering of new bodies for Honored Returned. His grandfather had developed an entirely new and more efficient method of mass distribution of gene-level vaccinations.
Sean Levin had practically been born to greatness and he’d accomplished much in his short but stellar career. Dr. Levin’s specialty was xeno-genetics. It was Dr. Levin’s belief that certain alien species had much to offer genetically. While study of alien genomes was accepted practice in the Primacy, Dr. Levin had gone a step further and suggested that integration of alien traits into the human genome may provide significant improvement over base-line humans.
The suggestion did not receive a positive response. Unfortunately, Dr. Levin chose not to let the matter drop to pursue another line of research. So confident was he that his theories were correct, Dr. Levin pursued practical application without first obtaining proper approval. He thought the results were promising; the powers that be strongly disagreed.
Levin was accused of heresy, of tampering with the purity of the human species. The hybrids he’d created were paraded in front of media outlets across the Primacy. It was only due to his family influence that Levin was not sent to prison. His reputation was destroyed, his credentials revoked, and his name placed on the Exclusion Lists. His family essentially disowned him, providing only enough credits to let Levin live somewhere far from public sight.
When Vashek’s agent contacted Levin it was as though the Holy Mother Herself had heard the disgraced scientist’s prayers. Vashek had given him a state of the art facility, unlimited funding, and the freedom to conduct his own experiments. All Vashek had required in return was that Dr. Levin and his staff concentrate their intellects on solving a rather interesting challenge. Unfortunately that challenge had proven unexpectedly difficult.
“Dr. Levin, you are testing my patience.”
“Yes, um, my apologies, Caller. Perhaps if you were to provide additional information as to the origin of the sample?”
“Dr. Levin, I have given you a simple task, one which you assured me was within your supposedly considerable skill set. You are to create a fully matured bioform using the material I gave you, and you are to accomplish this by the deadline specified. If you fail to do so you will no longer be of use to me. Does this clarify things for you, doctor?”
“Yes,” Levin said, sensing that ‘no longer being of use’ to the Caller would entail far more dread consequences than merely having his funding taken away. “Yes, thank you. It is quite clear.”
“I am pleased to hear it,” said Vashek. “I will expect better news when next we speak.”
◊
The Starlight sat motionless relative to a small rogue moon; far from where he’d left Jarvik Renson floating in open space without benefit of an environmental suit. Sha had kept the letter of his word, if not exactly the spirit of it. He’d let the man go.
Sha stared at his wedding ring. He’d never worn it on a mission before because there would have been no way to recover it, even if the traditional gold band did survive Sha’s Sending. Pietra used to wear it on a chain around her neck when Sha was away. It had been one of the few personal possessions Sha had collected prior to his escape from Earth.
He knew now that it had been Teresk who’d taken Pietra from him. But he had no idea why. He’d been pouring over every file and stray piece of data he could find dealing with the Caller. None of it revealed a motivation behind Pietra’s murder.
Teresk had been mentored by Caller Sarthol. That had attracted Sha’s attention. Sarthol had been the Caller that sponsored Sha’s entry into the ranks of the Honored Returned. Every member the elite corps of warriors was sponsored by a Caller. Sha had found out more than sixty years after his first Returning who it was that had sponsored him.
Sha had only met Sarthol a handful of times but always he had sensed goodness in the man. How had such a man failed to recognize the evil in his own student? One point of interest was that Teresk appeared to be continuing her mentor’s opposition to Caller Vashek. Sha was not so naïve that he did not assume there were political conflicts aplenty among the Callers. But only after reviewing the classified assembly records did Sha see just how regular and aggressive Sarthol’s, and subsequently Teresk’s, opposition had been, and continued to be.
Sha could only assume that his assessment of Sarthol had been incorrect. Or had Teresk perhaps tricked the ancient Caller? Had she taken advantage of Sarthol’s gentle nature and convinced him that she was an innocent?
Sha considered that there may be deeper intrigues at work but he was at the limit of his investigative ability. Sha was a warrior, not a detective. He’d been trained to ask direct questions and act directly.
“Who was his enemy?” The answer was clear. Caller Teresk had ordered the sabotage of Pietra’s shuttle. Caller Teresk was the enemy, the one who had to be punished, but who else was involved?
Sha wanted someone to blame. He wanted a neck to take in his hands, to choke the life out of someone. Sha knew that he could not kill a Caller, any more than he himself could be truly killed so long as he was connected to the Calling Tower. It was strange, come to think of it. He could still feel his connection to the Tower. It hadn’t been severed despite his growing list of crimes. That meant the conspiracy he was chasing must not involve a majority of Callers. If it did, then surely they would have cut him off by now. It would be the easiest way to get rid of him.
Then again maybe whoever was responsible didn’t want to get rid of him. That was a thought. Maybe he was being used as a weapon. Pietra had loved mystery novels. Sha had gone in more for romances. Pietra would have been able to figure this out, Sha was sure.
But she wasn’t alive anymore. She couldn’t help because someone had murdered her. Sha felt his rage building again, clouding his thoughts, but he quickly put it away for later use. Anger would not help him now, but there would be a time for it.
Who was at the heart of it all? Teresk was the obvious answer, but perhaps too obvious. Sha had to consider the source of the accusation. Renson hadn’t been lying, of that Sha was certain. But the man was a toady, a cat’s paw. How hard would it really be to set Renson up as a red herring, a spotting laser by which Sha could be guided to a target?
But such an impersonation would be a tremendous risk. The penalty for fraudulent use of a Caller’s identity would be droning. The sheer difficulty of bypassing the layers of security in place to protect against just such a thing would be incredible. Also, it would be entirely unnecessary. A Caller’s authority was certainly not required to order a flunky like Jarvik Renson around. That man would have caved under the pressure from any higher ranked officer. Using a Caller’s identity for such a task was worse than pointless, it was foolish. It was like using a rocket launcher to kill an ant.
Yet a Caller’s identity had been used which meant that either Teresk really was responsible or someone was specifically targeting the Caller. It seemed unlikely that any Caller, even one as young and inexperienced as Teresk, would be foolish enough to manipulate Renson directly when it would be so much simpler to use go-betweens. If Sha was to believe that Teresk actually was to blame, then he’d have to also believe that the Caller, Sarthol’s trained successor, was an idiot. That just did not track. Teresk may be young, but she was a Caller, and no Caller would be that stupid.
If Teresk was the target and Sha was the gun, then whose finger was on the trigger? Who would want to implicate a Caller? There were, unfortunately, many possible suspects. The Primacy had no shortage of enemies, alien and otherwise. There were numerous human grou
ps based on anti-Primacy rhetoric which expanded Sha’s list of suspects exponentially. He put that consideration away for now, directing his thoughts instead to the question of why he specifically was being used as the weapon. Surely there were easier ways to have someone killed.
But were there? Considering the target was it really possible for just anyone to manage it? Callers were protected by elite warriors chosen from among the most capable and most loyal in the Legion. Some Callers also had personal bodyguards, some of whom had been enhanced with technology nearly as advanced as that used in the bodies of Honored Returned.
Add to that the fact that Caller estates were built like fortresses. Powerful private shields protected them and dedicated satellites kept constant watch over the homes of every Caller. Armed response units, small armies of Legionnaires equipped with air and ground vehicles, maintained constant ready status.
Then there were the Callers themselves. Assassinating a being that has been the recipient of centuries of directed mental evolution would not be easy. In the eighteen-hundred year long history of the Council, such a thing had only happened three times, and all of those had occurred before the science of Returning had been developed - which brought up yet another piece of strangeness.
Why send anyone to kill a Caller in good standing? There was really no point. Even if the physical form of a Caller died its essence would simply return to the Calling Tower and DL into a waiting body. So it could not be a simple matter of assassination. But then, what else?
Sha wracked his brain trying to think like Pietra. She’d told him once that a mystery was just like one the holographic puzzles Sha liked. He could have used the spatial recognition software in his neurotech to instantly analyze each piece and know exactly which other pieces it connected to, but Sha liked to keep his organics in shape by turning off the tech on occasion.
‘Start with the edges,’ Pietra had said. ‘And work your way inward. Don’t rush. Just take it one piece at a time.’
Sha needed a better place to think, one where he could be closer to sources of information yet protected from those who may wish to stop him. No doubt the Starlight had been put on every Legion watch list in Primacy space. Twice he’d had to open an emergency gate to avoid detection by passing Legion patrol ships. There was only one person who might be able to provide what Sha needed. He opened a secure q-net link. The call was answered by a secretary who placed Sha on hold. Minutes later a familiar voice answered.
“Honored Returned,” Vashek said. “It is good to hear from you, my son. When you left the hospital I feared the worst.”
“Caller, I apologize for disturbing you at this hour.”
“Nonsense, my son, I am here to help, whatever you need. But, I have to tell you, you are being aggressively searched for. Your actions aboard station 1212 did not go unreported. I have done my best to baffle the search but I fear even my power is limited in this. The other Callers are discussing your disconnection from the Tower matrix.”
Sha was grateful and said so. “Unfortunately, Caller, I must ask a favor of you. Is the offer to stay at your oceanic estate still good?”
“Of course, my son, whenever you need it. But tell me, what are your intentions?”
“I feel someone has been attempting to set me up,” Sha replied. “I believe that same someone is responsible for my wife’s death and the seeding of false information that would lead me to attack a Caller named Teresk.”
“I am familiar with Caller Teresk.” Sha detected something in Vashek’s voice. In any other being Sha would have called it contempt. But it was gone as quickly as it had come and Sha assumed he’d imagined it, transferring his own emotional imbalance on to Vashek.
“I believe the power behind this plot wanted me to attack Caller Teresk in fit of rage. Not to kill her, but rather to create public scandal. Imagine what would happen if an Honored Returned attempted to kill a Caller. Such a scandal could be exactly the sort of destabilizing political event anti-Primacy agitators dream of.”
“A sobering thought,” said Vashek. “Your logic seems sound, though I admit such nefarious machinations are somewhat out of my bailiwick. However, I will investigate as much as I can and of course my home is open to you for as long as you need it.”
“Thank you, Caller. I appreciate your continued faith and support in this. I know you are putting yourself at risk on my behalf.”
“I do only what is right, my son. That is more important than power and position. I will arrange for a private diplomatic shuttle to meet you and bring you directly to my estate. That way you can bypass all security checkpoints.”
“Thank you, Caller. I will send coordinates where your shuttle can pick me up. Again, I must thank you.”
“We all serve the Holy Mother,” said Vashek in a most humble voice. “Please take care of yourself, my son.”
Vashek closed the channel after Sha gave him the coordinates where the diplomatic shuttle should pick him up. Minutes passed in which Vashek stood in the darkness of his office. Vashek had underestimated Szoveda Sha. He had been very careful in his analysis of the man and everything indicated that Sha would act decisively upon learning Teresk was responsible for his wife’s death.
Sha was one of the few of his kind that had developed a significant emotional bond with someone outside the corps. Vashek had manipulated Pietra’s career for years, insuring she spent enough time at home for the bond to stabilize, yet also enough time away and in reasonably dangerous situations that her absence would be keenly felt and thus strengthen the bond with passion.
Sha should have provided the Council with ample distraction while Vashek’s plans came to fruition. That Sha had not reacted without careful consideration was irritating and unexpected but not critical. There were other paths to the same end but they required greater reliance on the skills of Dr. Levin, a man who had thus far proven less gifted than advertised. There was nothing to do about it. Vashek simply had to apply greater pressure to the good doctor and his staff. Perhaps Franks should be put in charge of that. The P.A. particularly enjoyed such tasks. But no, things were still too delicate. There were other tasks better suited to Franks’ aggressive style, tasks the P.A. would enjoy even more.
◊
The proximity alarm rang through the ship. Seth detected the other ship and locked the telescopic view onto the incoming vessel. It wasn’t Legion that was immediately obvious. It also wasn’t a transport like the Enduring Journey. The other ship looked like it had been built from the pieces of three or four ships, but it wasn’t ugly or lacking in grace. Whoever had built the incoming ship had done so with great skill and a flair for predatory design.
The engines of the other ship were oversized and weapon pods were visible, missiles and cannons. The power signature of the incoming vessel was well beyond what one might expect from a ship of its size. The ship had been built strictly for combat which made it very likely that it was crewed by pirates.
Piracy was not uncommon in deep space. Salvage by force, as it was called in the media, was a time-honored tradition, going back far beyond the beginnings of the Primacy. Once space flight became commonplace crime of all types had adapted to the new environment.
Seth knew the Journey was outgunned and probably could not match the other ship for speed but the cargo ship had one advantage; she as tougher, having much better armor and shields. Unfortunately, unless he thought of something quickly, all that meant was that it would take longer for the pirates to disable his ship before looting it for everything of value. Seth had been so pleased with his newly refurbished ship that he hadn’t considered what a tempting target she now was.
Vig entered the bridge and took his seat, Iyanna and Jonah soon joined him, making the small bridge somewhat crowded.
“What is it?” asked Vig, knowing Seth would have taken scans as soon as the alarm sounded.
“Pirates,” Seth replied never talking his eyes off his screen. “Lots of weapons and serious speed. Lightly armored though. Thin hu
ll, minimal shielding.”
“Yeah, not uncommon on lone pirate ships. They figure speed and maneuverability trump everything. Plus, with that kind of firepower, all they have to do is hit us a couple times.” Seth knew Vig’s estimation of their chances matched his own, but there had to be a way to beat them.
“The Journey’s a good ship, Seth,” Iyanna said from behind him. “But she can’t win this fight.”
“Captain, what would happen if you surrendered without a fight?” Seth looked at Jonah incredulously.
“What would happen is that they’d board us, kill us, put our bodies out the airlock, and steal my ship. Not going to happen, kid.”
“I agree, but we also can’t win a straight up fight. I know we’ve not known each other for very long but I have to ask you to trust me. If you can do that I may be able to save us.”
Seth didn’t see another option. “Okay, what’s your plan?”
“I need you to surrender. Let them board us. You three stay out of sight.”
“That’s it! That’s your big plan? We hide while you what? Negotiate? Bad news kid, pirates don’t negotiate, especially when they don’t have to.”
“Cap’n, what other choice do we have?”
Seth didn’t like it but Vig was right. There was no better plan and maybe Jonah could at least negotiate for their lives, maybe to leave enough of the Journey intact that they could send out a call for help. Jonah was connected to the Legion and if he could prove that to the pirates they might think twice about murdering all of them. Seth still didn’t like it but he couldn’t figure anything better.
The pirates hailed them and confirmed Seth’s suspicions as to their intent. Of course the pirates never actually said they intended to kill everyone, giving the standard promise of “cooperate and no one will be harmed.” A lie of course, but victims with hope were victims that would not risk their lives in a suicidal last act of spite.