Coming to a halt before the station’s central lift, he felt his heart thudding in his chest. He took several deep, slow breaths to calm himself and went over his plan one last time. A car arrived, the door slid quietly open, and Emerson stepped inside. Here we go. Looking around at the dull interior, he felt like an insect moving along the lobe of a Venus flytrap, expecting the other half to slam shut at any moment. Planting his feet firmly in the center of the car, Emerson closed his eyes and forced himself to relax.
The ascent to DeSoto’s office was quick and quiet. As the lift’s door moved aside, the executive secretary’s head turned in Emerson’s direction, acquiring him as efficiently as any targeting system. He forged ahead under her withering gaze.
“I need to meet with Director DeSoto,” he said evenly. “And I don’t have an appointment.”
The secretary said nothing but continued boring holes in him with her eyes as he approached. After a moment, she looked down abruptly to see a subtle green light slowly flashing on the corner of her desk. When she looked back up, the gorgon stare had been replaced by a pleasant but plastic smile.
“Yes, Mr. Avery,” she replied. “The Director has been expecting you. Do go in.”
“Thank you,” he said with as much courtesy as he could muster. A second set of doors parted and in he went.
***
Colonel Adriene Thorsten was lucky to be alive. The Triven weapon that wounded him on Entropia had not only caused massive internal trauma at its point of entry, but also introduced a deadly neurotoxin into his body, rendering him paralyzed and very nearly dead. The rudimentary medical systems on their escape shuttle had barely stopped the bleeding and kept him breathing.
When he awoke in the mining colony’s dirtside trauma unit, he had no memory of his arrival or subsequent treatment. All he knew was that he was in a strange place and his entire body ached. He could feel the dull burning as nanoderms worked to reconstruct damaged tissue from the inside out. Being the career soldier that he was, it was an all too familiar sensation.
He tried to sit up and was rewarded with another unpleasant sensation as a wave of nausea rippled upward from the center of his stomach. Stifling his gag reflex, he managed to prop himself up and take in his surroundings through blurry eyes. Movement in the med bed triggered a soft chiming, alerting the nurse that he was awake and activating a medical automate to check on him. It entered the room silently with the nurse in tow.
“Someone is finally awake, I see,” said the nurse in a well-worn bedside routine as he double-checked the med bed’s readouts.
Thorsten tried to answer but found his throat was so dry all he could do was grunt hoarsely in response.
“Let’s get you hydrated so you can actually talk. I get so bored when it’s just me on duty. These automates aren’t exactly conversationalists.” The nurse handed a befuddled Thorsten a small water pouch which he greedily sucked down, and continued checking various diagnostic data.
“Your vitals look stable, finally. Between you and me, it was really touch-and-go there for a while. But don’t tell Legal I told you that; they’ll have a conniption. Liability and all that corporate nonsense. You’re going to feel some disorientation and soreness all over unfortunately. The Triven neurotoxin does quite a number on your brain and nervous system. And you’ve probably felt the nanoderms at work, too. Nothing more I can do about that for you—you’re already at your max dosing for pain nullifiers.”
Thorsten kept silent and let the nurse prattle on. He felt exhausted and his eyes still would not quite focus. He shut them to conserve energy.
“How long have I been out?” he croaked, noticing the waste removal system fastened around his midsection.
“Nearly three days.”
“And my… companions? Has anyone come by to visit me?”
“Your friends are in orbit on the station proper. I don’t know what they are up to, but no one tells me anything around here. No visitors yet, I’m afraid. Would you like something to eat?”
The suggestion of food was enough to cause hunger pangs that overrode the slowly ebbing nausea.
“I could try a little.”
“Good man. I’ll bring you some jello. I’m sorry, but we’re all out of cherry. Do you prefer lime or grape?”
“Lime, please.”
“You got it. Be right back. And don’t go anywhere!”
Thorsten slouched back down in the med bed and sighed heavily. He had dealt with nurses like this before. They drove him absolutely crazy. He looked over at the automate’s dull visual interface. It stared back at him with lifeless sensors that seemed to say, “Don’t blame me, I have to put up with him, too.”
13
“Emerson Avery, do come in! To what do I owe this distinct pleasure?”
Director DeSoto was already on his feet with hand extended when Emerson entered the spacious office. “I’ve actually been wanting to have a chat with you and here you are. Brilliant!” The man’s charm offensive caught Emerson off guard, but deep down he felt its insincerity — another façade among the many he had already seen since his arrival here. DeSoto shook his hand vigorously.
“Please, have a seat. May I get you something to drink?”
“Thank you sir, water would be fine. I’m still hydrating after my run.”
“Smashing, coming right up. By the way, how did you find our exercise facilities? To your satisfaction, I hope.”
“The optics were very good, Mr. DeSoto some of the best I’ve run with. I really felt like I was there.”
“Fantastic, glad to hear it. Now, what brings you to my office today?”
“Well, I’d like to go down to the surface.” Emerson noticed DeSoto’s smile freeze slightly.
“Oh really? Whatever for?” Now the smile began to melt ever so slowly from the director’s face.
“I want to visit Colonel Thorsten, sir. I haven’t seen him since our arrival and I’m worried about his condition.”
“Completely understandable. Although, the doctors have assured me he has responded well to treatment and will make a full recovery.”
“I’m relieved to hear that. The man did save my life. If it hadn’t been for him, I might have been captured and carried away like some of my friends.”
“The Triven took prisoners?”
“Yes, including two very close friends of mine.” Emerson let his countenance fall and looked down at his lap. He hoped his performance was convincing.
“I’m sorry to hear that, son,” said DeSoto, with the appropriate measure of sympathy. The director slowly stood up again and folded his arms behind his back. He stared out at the panorama of stars he knew so well, silently mulling over the different permutations of variables in his mind. Emerson sat quietly and tried not to fidget in the awkward space the director purposely left between them.
“Well, as I’m sure you’ll understand, I can’t spare a dedicated lighter to take you down to the surface. But you could take the elevator. It’s only about a thirty-minute trip after equipment and personnel have been loaded.”
“Thank you, Director DeSoto, I really appreciate it.” Emerson started to get up but was stopped by the palm of DeSoto’s upraised hand.
“Under one condition.”
“Yes, sir?”
“I’m assigning you a personal security detail.” DeSoto noted the brief flash of disappointment on the young man’s face.
“Just one officer, for your own protection... and the Combine’s, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I can’t have unaccompanied minors wandering around our mining operation. Safety regulations, corporate liability, and all that. You understand, right?”
“Yes, Director DeSoto, I completely understand. I know this isn’t some primary school field trip.”
“That’s a good lad. I can have an officer meet you in twenty minutes if you’re quite ready to go.”
“Quite,” said Emerson quickly while trying to mask the relief he felt. “Thanks
again, Director DeSoto, I really appreciate it. I know Colonel Thorsten will be glad to see I’m okay.”
“I’m sure he will, young man. Now off with you, and be sure to give him my compliments.”
“You can count on it.” Emerson shook the director’s extended hand once more and headed back towards the lift doors.
“Have a pleasant day,” said the receptionist coldly. Emerson gave her the briefest of glances before the lift doors closed.
“You too.”
He breathed a sigh of relief as the lift descended to the elevator’s main loading and departure bay. He’d done it! He was going to the surface... but he had no idea what he was going to do once he got there.
Back in his office, DeSoto watched Emerson’s progress dispassionately. He touched a red light on his desk.
“Sir?”
“Put Doctor Avery in protective custody as soon as the boy is underway on the elevator.”
“Understood.”
DeSoto sighed and sat back down, returning his gaze to the tapestry of stars just beyond the planetoid’s mass. Shunting the problem of unwanted guests aside, he began composing his thoughts for the station’s weekly security status report. As he turned to give dictation to the desk automate, a flash just beyond the unceasing Jacob’s Ladder caught his eye.
A thin bright line stretched wide and then vanished, followed by an elongated form that quickly assumed normal proportions and shimmered into solidity. But rather than the sleek lines of a PMC armed courier ship that he was used to seeing, an ugly cargo vessel with a pitted hull hove into view on a direct course for Tantalus Station.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “Now what?”
Interstice — Part III
The Great Auspex had saved the Triven from themselves, and set them on a path of galactic expansion that was as miraculous as it was bloodless. Below the surface on a planetoid whose ecosystem and atmosphere were slowly dying, it had given the saurians a new chance for life. A joint provisional government was agreed to. All of the Triven high kings now sat on an imperial council as equals, with the Imperator of the new Triven Sodality the first among those equals. The seven individual kingdoms ceased to exist and all were folded into the new imperium. Their borders erased, the Triven hatcheries became blended, slowly blunting the most extreme physical differentiations among the various clans. A new caste system arose to help regulate and order Triven society.
As it observed, supported, manipulated, regulated, and shepherded the new Sodality it had created, the Auspex instilled new rites and rituals for each caste, and was intimately involved in all government affairs, imperial hereditary disputes, and ultimately the choosing of each succeeding Imperator. Yet it could not simply open its vast storehouses of data to the Triven, or else they would stagnate and become wholly dependent on the Auspex for all knowledge and wisdom. No, they would have to struggle at times to become the people they needed to be in order to survive.
For on another world, far across the galaxy and without a benefactor such as the Auspex to guide them, an intelligent mammalian species was reaching out across the vast distances of space in a frenetic grasping for resources and worlds. Their ingenuity, persistence in the face of adversity, and ability to overcome great odds, not to mention their birthrate, would—as the Auspex correctly predicted—cause them to soon clash with the Sodality it was so bent on preserving. Driven by its underlying programming to explore and preserve life, the Auspex began a clandestine construction project such as had never been seen by any space-faring species in the galaxy.
14
It was a rush to the elevator. Emerson trailed behind his escort as they dashed through the station to reach the embarkation bay, but in the end, Security overrode Operation’s schedule and the car was held. The cylindrical cars of the elevator sat horizontally in the bay for the loading and unloading of supplies and personnel. Once in space, they were free to reorient themselves along the cable that stretched to the debarkation bay on the planetoid’s surface. With its last passengers finally aboard, the elevator resumed its monotonous course through the void.
For Emerson, it was an excruciatingly long thirty minutes in zero-g. His stomach protested.
The passenger compartment was a utilitarian gray extension of the station, the lack of money spent on creature comforts appallingly obvious. It reeked of the flinty odor that had assaulted Emerson’s senses when he first stepped aboard the station. He felt his nausea slowly increasing and swallowed hard. Most of the mining workers aboard remained strapped into the cramped seats provided, though a few floated by on their way to waste reclamation. Some actually managed to doze during the transit.
Emerson’s escort was content to give him a little personal space, strapping himself in one seat away. His friendly smile was negated by the menacing sidearm prominently displayed on his left thigh and eyes that conveyed the subtle threat of force. Emerson looked out the portside window and tried pretending the officer and his nausea did not exist.
Swiping absently at his datapad, he thought about the trinity of men he was stranded with: a brilliant yet absent father who seemed to have no backbone in difficult circumstances, a BLUE MONARCH who was decisive in combat but strangely reserved at times, and a fatherly career soldier who had tried to help save Ashley. He considered each one’s strengths and weaknesses. Whom did he want to emulate the most, if any of them?
A mild tremor ran through the car and the lights flickered briefly, startling Emerson out of his thoughts. He glanced over at his escort, who looked at him with one raised eyebrow. “Nothing to worry about, kid. Maintenance issues with the main power distribution system.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“You’re looking a little pale—the zero-g getting to you?”
Emerson nodded.
“Here, take these.” The officer slapped two yellow capsules into the palm of Emerson’s hand. “They’ll make it all go away.”
“Thanks,” said Emerson, and he actually meant it. Within moments of swallowing the two pills, he felt immensely better.
He looked up at the transit countdown clock imbedded in the curved bulkhead. Bright yellow numbers that stood in contrast to their dingy surroundings counted down the time until dirtside. It was the harbinger of exertion, sweat, and toil for those aboard... and of another step into the unknown for Emerson.
The datapad in his hand began to vibrate, instantly recapturing his attention. He looked over discreetly to see if his minder was watching him. The officer seemed engrossed with something on his own small datapad and laughed quietly at periodic intervals. Emerson’s eyes moved slowly back to the datapad’s screen. Twin video feeds he had seen before now inexplicably reappeared: MORGUE and QUARANTINE HOLD.
This time the former was now mostly empty, its gurneys lined up neatly against a wall, while the latter was crammed full of mining personnel. There was no sound, but the anguish of the men locked inside was evident. Their exposed skin was covered with what looked like open sores and hideous boils. Many were rocking back and forth on the ground or hitting themselves in the head with clenched fists. Streaks of blood and other bodily fluids stained the floor and inmates alike. Emerson tried to subdue any outward expressions of shock, but felt his heart begin to thud heavily in his chest.
He did not see any of the other staff in biohazard gear; indeed, there would have been no room for them to move among the tightly packed miners. Suddenly there was a frenzied movement of the inmates toward one side of the room. Emerson could see in the ensuing scrum that some of the unfortunate souls were being crushed beneath their coworkers. Almost as quickly the mob reversed course in terror, wide-eyed and frothing at the mouth. Emerson wanted to look away but felt a compulsion to watch, to bear mute testimony to the suffering of these people he did not know.
The reason for the mob’s panic became evident as heavily armed and armored security officers forced them away from the only door at gunpoint to dump three more hapless victims into the holding chamber.
> What is going on down there! Emerson thought as he tried to calm himself. Text flashed rapidly on the screen as the video feeds dissolved into darkness.
Hello, Emerson. Are you ready?
Emerson quickly keyed his response: I’m being watched.
Don’t worry, I’m occupying your friend over there with his favorite programming. He’s quite oblivious to you, unless you try to float away.
Emerson’s fingers danced over the datapad again: Why are you showing me this?
Because I want you to understand what’s at stake. For you, for them, for all of humanity. Do you want to end it?
End their suffering?
No, the cause behind all of humanity’s suffering and turmoil for the past two centuries.
What are you talking about?
The war with the Triven. Do you want to end it? All you have to do is stretch out your hand and grasp the possibility before you.
Are you insane? How could I singlehandedly end the war?
Trust me and I will show you.
The car jolted abruptly, causing Emerson to look up at the countdown clock. It read: 00:00:00.
15
“Somebody has a visitor!” The annoyingly upbeat tone of the nurse’s singsong greeting penetrated Thorsten’s slumber and dragged him unwillingly into semi-lucidity. His patience with the nurse had long since worn thin despite only a brief residency in the trauma center.
As his blurred vision cleared, he was surprised to see Emerson Avery standing next to him. Yet his eyes were immediately drawn to the armed security officer loitering only a few steps behind in the doorway. He looked up at Emerson and noted a peculiar look on his face. Something was definitely off, but his brain was so addled with drugs he could not quite put a finger on it.
Cerulean Rising - Part II: Evolutions Page 6