Progeny of Vale

by Rhett C. Bruno

  She had stopped halfway between the two ships, staring at the colossal Solar-Ark. Cassius joined her in admiring it. In space it was hard to grasp its enormity—the endless vacuum had a way of making all things seem insignificant—but within the hangar it was different. The tremendous hollow space had been designed for the very purpose of holding it, and there was barely a foot to spare on the flanks.

  “By the Spirit, I never realized how massive they are,” Sage said. “How did you accomplish this?”

  “Patience,” Cassius replied.

  A dark edge crept into her voice. He could see her swallow hard. “Are you going to destroy them all, Cassius?” she asked.

  “Of course not. I am merely borrowing this vessel in order to help get my point across. When all this is over it will be returned to its original purpose. I have no desire to see the Circuit die, only evolve.”

  “That’s why you built this place then, isn’t it? For this Ark.”

  Cassius nodded. “We made a rough estimate on its size based on the Conduit Stations. Not a bad fit considering.”

  “Our calculations were flawless, Creator,” ADIM interjected.

  “Can you believe that this ship was one of the six that in the early days of the Circuit stood between humanity and certain extinction?” Cassius marveled. It was a daunting notion, but he understood that those days were far past, even if most people didn’t. Another shackle now, he thought. Better had we just been put out of our misery.

  “I never thought I’d see—” Sage stopped herself, suddenly turning toward Cassius and appearing as though she’d had an epiphany. “The Keepers! Are they on board?”

  Cassius put on a wry grin. “I was wondering when you’d remember,” he said. “The initial surge of returning memories can make the more recent ones seem distant. Worry not, however. I ensured that your Ceresian acquaintance was not amongst the crew before I relieved them. Remember, I was able to see some of what your masters saw through your eyes. I never forget a face.”

  “Relieved them?” Sage asked.

  "The Keepers fought bravely to defend their tomb. Unfortunately, they could not be swayed to see things my way.”

  Sage’s opened her mouth to speak, and then decided against whatever she was going to say and to press on as if nothing had happened. “Are you sure Talon wasn’t there?”

  “Positive. I checked on it personally during the voyage here.”

  “Maybe I should—”

  She took a step toward the Solar-Ark, but Cassius placed his arm around her. “Sage, all you will find on that ship is empty metal halls. There are five other Solar-Arks tracing the Circuit. He was likely assigned to another. I know you don’t trust me any longer, and I understand why, but all I’ve ever wanted for you is happiness. Soon, the Ceresians will be my allies, and I promise that I’ll keep my ears open for his whereabouts. Next time I find myself in the Tribunal databases I’ll even check his assignment for you. He didn’t seem like a man who would allow himself to die locked up on a ship.”

  She looked into Cassius’s eyes for a moment and then nodded. “No,” she said, seemingly relieved. “No, he didn’t.”

  “Now, let’s get you home.”

  Cassius guided her to the waiting freighter. He was relieved as well, knowing that there was at least a thin layer of trust remaining. He was mostly telling the truth. By the time the androids learned what they needed to in order to pilot the Solar-Ark, not a single Keeper on board was left alive. He’d made sure to look over every one of their dead faces before he’d had them ejected through an airlock. The Ceresian whom he recognized from when he looked through Sage’s recorded vision wasn’t amongst them. Which meant he was either serving on another Solar-Ark, or he was the Keeper whom the androids had reported as somehow reaching an escape pod. Cassius held a great deal of respect for whoever had accomplished the latter.

  When they reached the ramp of the ship, Sage faced him, her features darkening again.

  “I will have to tell them what I saw here, Cassius,” she warned. “Even if you hide from me where we are, I’ll have to tell them that.”

  “Don’t worry,” Cassius replied. “I will already have told them myself.”

  She unexpectedly reached out and placed her human hand on his arm. “They will find you eventually, no matter where you hide. And next time they’re going to kill you. I won’t be able to—”

  “Stop.” Cassius shook his head. “They will try, just as they have been for years. I know what I’ve brought upon myself, so say nothing else, please. Let’s just get you home.”

  Cassius sent ADIM to go and retrieve Sage’s armor and pistol from storage on the White Hand. She blushed when she realized she’d been traipsing around in nothing but her undergarments. ADIM returned in no time, and once he did he and Cassius went to work on the freighter.

  They disabled its navigation and tracking systems, ensuring that it could never be traced back to Ennomos. Then they plotted an indirect course for Titan into the newly installed autopilot that wouldn’t allow Ennomos to be pinpointed by travel time based on drift charts. The autopilot also wouldn’t permit a manual override until it passed into Titan’s atmosphere. Cassius personally ensured that the coding was so complex that Sage would have no chance of cracking it if she attempted to.

  When that was completed, they brought Sage into the command deck and set her down in the captain’s seat. Cassius fit the safety restraints over her chest and then pulled out a syringe.

  “Just a sedative,” he said before she could ask. He could see that she was starting to tense up, and with ADIM watching vigilantly he didn’t want a repeat of earlier. “I can’t have you seeing any more, but by the time you wake up your headaches won’t be an issue anymore.”

  “I’m getting tired of going to sleep this way,” she drawled.

  “Even I must be cautious. When you leave this place, you will be my enemy.”

  Cassius wet an area of her neck with a numbing agent. As he brought the needle in, her artificial hand grabbed his wrist, and she lifted her gaze to stare at his face. “Whatever you’re planning Cassius, think about Caleb before you do it,” she whispered.

  Cassius grasped her hand with one of his and squeezed the cold metal. “I always am,” he responded. Then he plunged the needle into the side of her neck.

  She grew drowsy in seconds, and as she did he reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out the spherical HOLO-Recorder which had been Caleb’s. It was the partner device to the one which stored Caleb’s final moments, and Cassius had been storing it aboard the White Hand ever since his son died. The Tribune wouldn’t be able to use it to track him if they ever found it, but if Sage was ever in close enough proximity direct messages could be exchanged between them.

  “If you ever need me, Sage, this will allow you to contact me,” he said. “Keep it safe.”

  She watched with heavy eyelids as he fiddled with her artificial arm, sliding a plate of metal on the underside backward so that the small device could fit inside, nestled between two clusters of circuitry.

  “Cassius…” she mouthed, struggling to stay awake. “His death wasn’t their fault…It wasn’t your fault…It was mine. I should’ve…”

  Cassius placed a finger over her lips. “No child. Never say that. No man can be blamed for what happened that day.” He cradled her head as the sedative completely kicked in and she slipped into a deep slumber. “Goodbye, my dear.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN—TALON

  People of the Verge

  Talon and Tarsis hunched over in the confines of the escape pod, watching the spotlights of the approaching ship glare through the viewport. Talon couldn’t make out the entire vessel, but enough to see that it was many decades old. It pulled alongside them, and its cargo hangar ramp creaked open wide enough to engulf them.

  Definitely not Tribunal, he thought, relieved. In his experience, the spotting lights it used were typical on salvage ships. Whether they were there to help or were scavengers was up
for debate.

  “Whoever comes through that door, we should be ready to defend ourselves,” Talon said to Tarsis. “We’re too close to get put down by pirates.”

  “We’re two refugee Keepers with a short lease on life, in an escape pod worth little more than its weight in scrap metal,” Tarsis said. “I’m afraid to ask what you were before all of this if you’re so eager for a fight already.”

  Talon cracked a smile. “A glorified mercenary, then a miner, then a mercenary again.”

  Tarsis leaned against the glass wearing the half-excited, half-nervous expression of a man finally returning home after countless years away. “Well, you’ll be happy to know that’s a Vergent ship out there. My people.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’d know a chassis like that anywhere. Let me do the talking. Hopefully these are the respectable sort of Vergents.”

  “They’re all yours.”

  Talon glanced out of the viewport to make sure that they were completely within the ship’s cargo bay, and then pushed the button that signaled the pod to open.

  The front popped forward with a snap-hiss and then slid up completely over the roof. A group of Vergents stood in the cargo bay. All of them aimed guns at the pod. They wore tight, black boiler-suits, which somehow made their exceedingly pasty skin appear even whiter.

  “No movin’, Insiders!” The young boy in the center of the gun-wielding Vergents ordered. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen.

  Talon did as commanded. The word insiders came off the young boy’s lips with unbridled scorn, which made him suddenly feel unsafe despite Tarsis’s relation. Insiders was what Vergents called anybody outside of the Vergent Cell, or within the orbit of Uranus to be exact. He’d encountered their kind plenty of times. Vergent merchants and smugglers were a common sight in Ceresian ports, but they rarely spoke with strangers beyond what was necessary to conclude business and avoid fights. He was on their turf now, though.

  “We are—” Tarsis was cut off by the same young boy.

  “No speakin’ either!” he snapped.

  Even Tarsis appeared startled by his harshness. The boy motioned forward and two others moved into the pod with scanners. They climbed around the small enclosure with unbelievable dexterity, somehow managing not to bump into either Tarsis or Talon as they inspected the cramped pod.

  Talon immediately understood why people said that true Vergents spent every waking moment on their ships. Sure, there was a smaller-than-typical Conduit Station over Neptune and a couple of tiny settlements out there, but those were little more than the ports where their real homes could dock. Like Keepers, Vergents lived and died on their ships, only they were happy to do it and whatever else it took to survive. Whether that made them pirates, smugglers, or honest tradesman, it was all the same to them.

  “They clear, Kitt,” the two Vergents in the pod addressed the young boy.

  Kitt nodded, but he held his gun steady. His piercing, nearly-black eyes stuck out against the pale backdrop of his gaunt face, and a sharp nose was accentuated by bony cheeks. He was tall and lanky, like the poor of Ceres Prime who were forced to live under the low-G conditions of barely working gravity generators. Talon imagined that if his people struggled to get their hands on legal, Solar-Ark Gravitum shipments, then Vergents probably got even less. He even started to notice that the artificial gravity pulling his body to the floor was noticeably weaker than it had been on the Amerigo.

  The other six Vergents who were lined up on either side of Kitt had a similar look to them—lean and bony, and even taller, with the hardened glare of people whose whole existence was a constant struggle.

  “Lower all weapons,” a calm, gruff voice commanded.

  They all obeyed without delay, the group parting so that the woman who gave the order could step through. She was older than any of them by at least twenty years. The Captain, Talon assumed.

  “Tarsis. Can’t be you.” The countless wrinkles quilting her brow deepened as she stared into the pod.

  “In the flesh and metal, my old friend.” Tarsis smiled warmly. He stepped forward and they embraced, Tarsis’s damaged, metal exoskeleton screeching as they did. “How did you find us?”

  The captain held him at arm’s length. “We were doin’ our best avoidin’ groups of Tribunal scout ships when we picked up a distress. Transmission’s so ancient we nearly missed it. Wouldn’t imagine findin’ you inside. Thought you were dead.”

  “Somehow, I survived that crash all those years ago, but now I’m securely on my way there, I promise you that.” Tarsis lifted his arms so that the bright veins beneath his flesh and the suit attached to it couldn’t be missed.

  The captain’s expression darkened. Talon recognized the look. It was the same one Julius wore when he found out about the Blue Death.

  “I see,” the captain muttered. “You’ll have to forgive. None of us here ever had the privilege of seein’ an active Keeper before. Didn’t realize what you were.”

  As soon as they heard the word Keeper, Kitt and the rest of the Vergent crew holstered their weapons and lowered their heads in a reverential manner. It made Talon uncomfortable, reminding him of the fate which befell everyone on the Amerigo who foolishly stood their ground like they were supposed to.

  “Few have,” Tarsis responded. “There aren’t many of us who get the opportunity to die beyond the ancient hulls of a Solar-Ark.”

  “Exactly.” The captain’s glare suddenly grew judgmental.

  I wonder how long the crew’s admiration will last if they find out me and Tarsis fled, Talon thought.

  “Don’t worry, Larana, we aren’t deserters,” Tarsis responded with iron conviction. “Something hit the Amerigo hard. I fear we are the only ones who escaped in order to warn the Circuit. The command deck was taken before a message could even be sent out.”

  “So it is true then?” Captain Larana asked. “We were leavin’ Titan when somethin’ blew the Conduit in half. Debris almost hit us. Scanners read the Amerigo was passin’ through at the same time, but we didn’t believe it. Till now. Who be damned enough to attack a Solar-Ark?”

  “Whoever it was, they used an android the likes of which I’ve never seen. Quicker than any human, with eyes red as lava and a metal frame as dark as the Earth’s sky. The Keepers may not necessarily be trained to fight—Ancient’s sake our weapons are hardly operational—but the thing cut through our ranks like we were nothing. Nothing.” Tarsis turned around and placed his hand on Talon’s shoulder. “I was ready to give my life before Talon here convinced me we had to warn the Circuit what we saw.”

  Talon exhaled, appreciative of his new companion’s white lie. A logical explanation, even if it’s only true for one of us. He wished he could bring himself to care more about whatever had happened on the Amerigo, but after hearing Ulson get shot down over com-link and watching Vellish be executed, he found himself numb to the deaths of strangers. Focusing on Elisha was all that kept his head clear and focused.

  “Androids, you say?” Larana asked in disbelief. “I’ve seen those things in action. Only Ceresians use ’em.” The contemptuous way she uttered the name Ceresians drew a cross glare from Talon before he could restrain himself. The captain took notice. “I see,” she recognized, analyzing Talon from head to toe before continuing. “Well, there’d need to be a thousand of them to take down the Keepers of a Solar-Ark.”

  “We only saw one,” Talon spoke up for the first time.

  “One? Impossible!”

  “There had to have been someone working with it considering they hit the hold and the command deck simultaneously,” Tarsis clarified. “But like he said, we only saw one up close.”

  “Must have been somethin’ else,” Captain Larana decided. “I’m hopin’ you two haven’t got too comfy outside the Amerigo though, ’cause we’re gonna find out what really happened and you’re gonna help.”

  A look of dread washed over Tarsis. “Larana,” he said. “It’s been a long time since w
e shared a drink on Triton, but you know me. I’m telling you: turn around before it’s too late.”

  “Some of us—” the visibly irritated Captain began, but was cut off when someone spoke frantically over the ship’s com-system.

  “Cap’,” the fidgety voice said, likely belonging to someone barely out of their teens. “Better get up here quick.”

  “What is it?” Larana said.

  “Transmission comin’ in. From the Tribune.”

  “About?”

  “You better come.”

  “On our way. Kitt, come with me,” Larana ordered. “We might need a pilot. Tarsis, you too. Bring your friend. Rest of you, battle stations. Rare day when the Tribune are our friends. Don’t want them gettin’ the jump.”

  The Vergent crew scattered, weaving around and over the hangar’s cargo containers with unbelievable nimbleness. Talon had been around ships all of his life on Ceres but he’d never seen a group of people move with such comfort and grace aboard one.

  “Follow me, Keepers,” Kitt requested. He tapped Talon lightly on the back.

  Captain Larana led them deeper into the ship. It reminded Talon of the Solar-Ark in a way. Not in scale, but it seemed like the bulk of it had to be at least a hundred years old. Every piece had its own unique noise to make, all of it with a worn look that told of a dozen captains before. At every intersection you could see all the way down the hall into a larger space. Refectory, gunning stations, sleeping chambers—they all fell into place with the utmost efficiency. Easy to maneuver through, but hard to defend. Talon thought. They must rarely let strangers get this far.

  “What an honor it must be to be named captain of one of these,” Talon whispered as he caught up to Tarsis. He ran his hand along the layer of rusty metal plates on the wall, feeling each dent in the surface. He was beginning to recall where his daughter got her love of ships from.

  “You should’ve seen mine.” Tarsis had to raise his whisper so his voice would be audible over the whine of his damaged exo-suit. “She was a beauty.”