Burden of Sisyphus (Brink of Distinction book #1)

by Jon Messenger

The long journey to Fatutu IV was punctuated by a few fights among members of the Goliath’s crew and Vance’s covert operations team. The team’s mood was sour and even their tolerance of each other was low. Most of Vance’s time was spent apologizing to the captain and different officers throughout the ship instead of getting any relaxation time. When the captain finally announced they were arriving, Vance was relieved.

  He accompanied his team to the hangar, eager to be on one of the first transports leaving the ship. Their uniforms were traded in for loose shirts and knee-length shorts. Even their disgruntled moods were replaced by smiles and friendly jests.

  Loud laughter preceded the team’s entrance to the hangar. Ainj threw his arm comfortably around Nova’s shoulders. Yen and Eza joked like lost brothers, followed by the ever-stoic Ixibas and the stooped Tusque, bending low to pass under the doorframe. Vance came behind them but didn’t approach the transport.

  “We wish you’d come with us,” Yen called.

  “Is there any way we can convince you to join us?” Eza asked.

  Vance shook his head. “No. I have promises to keep. You have fun. Above all, keep out of trouble.”

  “I don’t understand why he worries about us.” Ainj’s voice sang in typical Avalon style. “It’s almost as if he doesn’t trust us.”

  “Or he actually knows us,” Tusque added, his deep voice carrying easily through the open hangar.

  “If you aren’t coming with us,” Nova said, slipping free of Ainj’s arm, “at least try your best to enjoy yourself.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Vance replied, as Ainj caught Nova’s hand, pulling her toward the transport.

  “Say hello to Halo for us!” she yelled as she was dragged away.

  Vance waved as the ship’s door sealed. Warning lights spun above all the doorways, telling him it was time to clear the hangar. As he left the vaulted bay, the doors slid shut behind him so decompression of the chamber could begin. Vance didn’t wait for confirmation that his team was away before he walked toward the depths of the ship.

  With the Goliath in the process of establishing a steady orbit around Fatutu IV, Vance knew Halo would be busy with a multitude of minute adjustments in speed and altitude. Instead of bothering her, he paced the length of the long, cylindrical warship.

  Taking the captain’s advice, he wandered to the front most observation deck. To the captain’s credit, the view was spectacular. The deep purple of indigenous plant life mixed beautifully into the soft pinks and reds of the lapping oceans. Even the polar icecaps had a faint pastel hue, absorbing color from the water and the soft ultraviolet light filtering through the atmosphere.

  Ever the soldier, his eyes quickly moved to a closer view—Goliath. Missile ports and rail-gun launch tubes jutted from the long, glossy black hull. The Goliath, converted from a regular cruiser to a warship when the Alliance reallocated the ship for use by covert operations, contained a myriad of weaponry far superior to any other ship in the Fleet.

  From his vantage point the vessel of destruction clashed violently with the serene beauty of the planet below. In his own mind, Vance was very much the flesh-and-blood version of the Goliath, constantly clashing with the beauty of the world around him. Over his past seven years in command of the team, he went to many beautiful planets like the one below—always with malicious intent; including assassination, destruction of Terran outposts, and kidnapping. His team had spilt red blood across the sparkling white sands of dozens of worlds.

  As he watched another transport launched from the Goliath, heading toward the planet’s surface. He smiled at his most recent iteration of soldiers. Eza Riddell, the Wyndgaart warrior, was the eldest team member, having served with Vance for two years. All the others were recent additions within the past six months. Already they coalesced into a dangerous, proficient team, but they were still young and vivacious.

  Vance, however, began feeling his age. Though still in his thirties, seven years of command took their toll on his body and spirit.

  A series of faces slashed through his mind, images of former soldiers who served under him. His heart ached as he realized that nearly half of them were killed in the line of duty. Vance was a fluke of the system, lasting long past the three-year life expectancy for covert operations soldiers. Though he knew his current unit was one of the best ever, he still missed the days of having more mature soldiers under his command.

  With a pang, he realized he missed mature soldiers like Aleiz.

  Looking down at his watch, he realized nearly two hours had passed since his team departed for the planet’s surface. Calculations and coordination with planet-side supply crews should have been completed, which meant Halo’s attention could be undividedly his. Though, he conceded, splitting her attention until she was overloaded with tasks was nearly impossible.

  Stepping off the lift at one of the central floors he walked to the heart of the ship, following a single silver line of paint on the wall. He walked those corridors so many times he no longer needed a guide, but still he ran his fingers over the silver trail while he walked. Turning onto a side hall, the line ended at a doorway with the words: High Altitude Logistical Operations (HALO).

  As he reached to knock, the door slid open. Standing awkwardly in the hall with his hand still raised, he shook his head. Halo always knew what he was thinking before he could verbalize it. Stepping into the room’s cold darkness, he let his eyes adjust while his breath formed clouds of condensation.

  “Hello, Michael,” a soft, feminine voice said, her words amplified by the speakers lining the walls. “I wondered what was taking you so long on the observation deck.”

  “Does the fact that you were watching me mean you care?” he asked the darkness.

  Halo replied with a soft laugh, the tone slightly lost by the mechanical undertones from the speakers. “Come and sit with me.”

  The lights in the room glowed softly, adding gentle mood lighting to the still shadowed room. In the dimness, he walked to the single chair that dominated the otherwise empty room.

  Halo reclined in the chair, her body conforming to the seat’s thick cushions. Her barely discernible female form was naked, though all sense of modesty was lost among the thick, black cables snaking from her body. From her eye sockets, permanently open mouth, breasts, arms, and snaking from her genitals, ribbed black tubes carried her consciousness to the giant computer console before her prostrate form. Though unseen, within those tubes was a multitude of wires that created a direct connection between Halo’s brain and Goliath’s higher mechanical functions. Those wires kept her bodily functions performing normally, including removal of waste. For the lithe female in the chair, it was months since she volunteered for the Halo program and was fully integrated with the system. Though she was aware the ship could function without her, she had become Goliath.

  Vance reached the side of the chair, his jacket pulled tightly around his body, his breath escaping in clouds. Though the room was frigid to ensure no damage was done to the computer system, Halo seemed unaffected. She didn’t move, though he noticed a series of video cameras around the room tracking his movements.

  “I didn’t want to interrupt in case you were busy,” he said.

  “You could’ve come at any time.” Her voice came eerily from eight separate speakers around the room, an effect that strengthened her integration with the ship. “No matter what I was doing, you wouldn’t have been a bother. My lower brain functions can run the ship for years while I talk with you.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind next time.” He placed his hand on her arm, feeling her skin icy to the touch, and quickly changed the subject. “You look healthy.”

  “Healthy?” She laughed sweetly. “We’ve been together for five years and all you can say is I look healthy?”

  He smiled and ran his hand over her clean-shaven scalp. “Well, you looked a lot better with hair.” Personal grooming was the only thing the computer couldn’t maintain for her. To ensure her body remai
ned as sterile as possible, all Halo’s body hair was removed every day by an assigned crewman.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t join the rest of the team for some much deserved vacation time.” She changed the subject almost as artfully as he did. “You would’ve enjoyed Fatutu IV.”

  “This is relaxation for me.” He gently squeezed her hand. “We don’t get to spend a lot of time together anymore unless it’s between missions. I miss that time.”

  “What would you like to do?”

  “Oh, there are so many choices. I can sit and watch you not move or I could guess which speaker you’re talking through. I don’t know where to begin.”

  “You really are a jerk.” She laughed.

  “I wish I could take you out of here,” he said seriously. “From everything. I can see you would’ve enjoyed this planet.”

  “I know I would have. Michael, I know you still aren’t comfortable with what I’ve become.”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “You forget that I have six video cameras watching and analyzing every facial expression you make.”

  “It’s not that I don’t like what you’ve become.” He ran his fingers over her arm, gingerly avoiding the black tube attached to the veins at the crook of her elbow. “I know this was the opportunity of a lifetime, being one of the first volunteers for the Halo program. I just miss the time we used to spend together. I love Halo, but I miss Aleiz. Does that make sense?”

  “After five years, I still wouldn’t have pegged you for a softie. Shall I have a crewman bring you a tissue?”

  “Oh, you’re full of jokes today. Fine. No more sweet talk. What would you like to do today?”

  “Well, there’s sit and watch me not move….”

  After a few days’ vacation time, Vance was again in deep conversation with Halo when his transponder chirped.

  “Magistrate Vance, this is Captain Young.”

  Vance raised an eyebrow. He didn’t expect to hear from the captain for at least another week. “This is Vance.”

  “Sorry to do this to you, Michael, but we’ve had a change of plans. I have a new mission coming down the pipe for you and your team.”

  Vance turned off the radio before turning to Halo. “Do you know anything about this?”

  “No, but judging from the amount of radio chatter, it’ll be a fairly large operation. Aside from recalling your team, the captain has activated four platoons of infantry.”

  “When have we ever needed that many soldiers for a mission?” he asked arrogantly. Pressing the transmit button he said, “Sir, I hear my team is already in transit from the planet?”

  “Yes. They’re on their way.” The captain chuckled.

  “When and where do you need us?”

  “They’ll be onboard within two hours. I’ll give everyone another hour to get back into uniform before you and your team report to the briefing room. You’ll be joined by the four sets of platoon leaders for your support units.”

  “Sir,” he said slowly, not wishing to insult his mentor, “my team has never needed such a large support staff.”

  “I’ll fill you in when you arrive. Get your things in order and meet me in the briefing room. Captain Young, out.”

  Vance lowered his radio and shrugged to Halo, knowing she was still watching, though she was processing thousands of radio communications and ship requests. She could answer him if he asked her a question but she was beginning to lose herself in the intricacies of the ship.

  “Well, Lover,” he said, leaning over her still form, “it seems like we’re both about to get a lot busier. Take care. I’ll stop by before we leave for the mission.”

  “Be safe,” she replied, though her electronic voice sounded distant and distracted. “If I hear anything before you do, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  Vance leaned over to kiss her cold forehead. Wordlessly, he turned and left the sealed room, shedding his jacket after he left the arctic chill. He turned away from his team’s cabins knowing that he had one more responsibility before the team returned from leave.

  Like he did on every mission before, Vance went through a maze of halls to stop before a sealed door with a code panel on one side. Entering his commander’s code, he opened the door. Lights above came on automatically as he entered the expansive armory his team used.

  Ignoring the multitude of pistols, rifles, explosives, and Ainj’s series of sniper rifles, he stopped before a two-foot-by-two-foot safe. After receiving his commander’s code and processing his thumbprint, tumblers clicked into place with a resounding thump. Opening the safe door, Vance removed a six-inch-diameter black sphere. The seamless, glossy surface glistened in the halogen lighting as he turned the nondescript orb in his hand.

  Satisfied, he carefully slid the black sphere into the assault pack on his belt before leaving the armory, letting the door slide closed and seal behind him.