It was not nearly fast enough for Chow Yin. When he received the communication from the patrol ship he had placed in Plutonian orbit that an alien vessel had materialized in Sol System space, he longed for near-light-speed travel.
The captain of the patrol ship reported that the alien vessel had been destroyed by the minefield they’d placed there.
Grimacing as he listened to the message, knowing the events described had already occurred four hours previous, Chow Yin breathed a sigh only when he heard the last sentence:
“…and we have recovered four passengers who used an escape pod—all humans. We have identified them, and have them in custody. Alex Manez, Michael Sanderson, Kenny Harriman, and the Mayan historian, Yaxche.
“Sire, your instructions were to destroy anything that entered Sol’s space, but we wanted to confirm those instructions, considering the identities of the prisoners.”
This was one time Chow Yin was happy his subordinates did not completely obey his instructions. With the difficulties he had in replicating Klaus’s research, having access to those four might give his team of researchers a catalyst to perfecting the Kinemetic process. The only person who would have been more beneficial to him was Major Turner. He wondered what had become of her.
Chow Yin encoded a return message to the patrol ship. “Excellent work, Lieutenant Gao. You are to return to Luna Station immediately with the prisoners. We’ll send a relief patrol ship to replace you.”
Once he sent the message, he contacted the lab facility and informed them to prepare for the impending arrival of their ‘guests’.
8
Qin Station :
Sol System :
“Chow Yin?” Michael blurted out.
The criminal who had once secretly controlled Luna Station from the shadows stood in front of them, beaming as if pleased that he had suitably surprised his guests.
When he’d been arrested on Luna, Chow Yin had barely been able to get around the station with the aid of a cane. During his trial in China, the stress of the planet’s gravity had done considerable damage to his already weakened legs, Michael recalled. At the time of his incarceration, Chow Yin had been confined to a wheelchair.
Now, Michael saw, he’d been fitted with a full set of biomechatronic legs, similar to the braces Alex had used on Canada Station Three. The prosthetics were bulky, making him look disproportionate, but it gave him the ability to walk around under his own power.
Chow Yin did so, stepping forward amid the mechanical hum of the electronic pistons, and nodded to Michael. “Mr. Sanderson, welcome back to Sol System. I see you’ve noticed my new legs. My engineers just fitted me with them. Tell me, do they make me look too tall?”
Michael ignored the question. “Why have you kidnapped us?”
The Emperor only widened his smile. He turned to the others. “Kenneth Harriman, Yaxche, pleased to have you join us.”
A thousand thoughts raced through Michael’s mind. The last he’d heard, Chow Yin had been sent to a penal station on the L3 point on the opposite side of the Sun. In the span of four years, Chow Yin went from prisoner to Emperor. Michael wondered at the events that had led to this development.
Alex took a step back. “I won’t do it.”
“Now, now,” said Chow Yin. “I had hoped we could be civil.”
At first, Michael didn’t know what they were talking about, but a moment later, it came to him. Assuming it was Chow Yin’s engineers who had advanced Kinemet technology to the point where they could fly a ship from Pluto to the asteroid belt in two weeks, they still hadn’t mastered the element’s superluminal aspect. As powerful as Chow Yin had become, carving out his own empire, it was obvious he still had not been able to develop a Kinemat.
That’s why he’d captured them, instead of killing them. Alex was the only living Kinemat in Sol System, though he was not fully converted. They would need him for study. Kenneth had been working with Alex, and was one of the brightest quantum physicists in the community. Though Quantum Resources had made recordings of Yaxche’s recitation of the Song of the Stars in Mayan, it was more than likely they had not allowed those to get into Chow Yin’s hands. Without the musical recipe, they could spend a century trying to get the frequencies correct to prime Kinemet for a transformation.
The Emperor needed Alex, Kenny, and Yaxche.
He did not need Michael, and proved it a moment later when he nodded to one of the soldiers near him. The man raised his rifle, aiming directly at Michael’s head.
Chow Yin said, “I had a banquet planned, where we could have something to eat while we negotiated our partnership. It’s disappointing that you’ve brought us to the ultimatum stage so quickly. You’re taking all the fun out of it, Alex.” With a look of forced patience, he spoke slowly. “You will help us, or your friend will die. There. Is that simple enough for you?”
Michael gritted his teeth. “Don’t do it, Alex. Don’t give this madman anything.”
“Ah, I see you think I am bluffing. I assure you. I am not.” The Emperor’s expression turned grave. “A demonstration is in order.” To the soldier, he said, “Kill Mr. Sanderson, if you would be so kind.”
“No!” Alex shouted, and instinctively tried to push Michael out of the line of fire.
Kenny was a second faster, and hit Michael with his body. The ion pulse that was meant for the older man seared through Kenny’s chest, instantly killing the physicist.
Alex changed direction, reaching out to catch Kenny’s falling body. A cry of outrage and despair escaped him.
“You murdered him!” he yelled, though the words came out incoherently.
Michael, who had recovered his balance, slowly stood up straight. He couldn’t believe Kenny was dead. A primal savagery began to grow inside him. Thought did not control his actions. On pure instinct, he launched himself at Chow Yin with only the image of his hands wrapped around the self-styled Emperor’s neck to fuel him. He had no care that he would most likely be shot dead by a soldier before he got more than half way to their leader. Kenny had never hurt anyone. He didn’t deserve to be cut down like an animal.
Instead of shooting Michael, the soldier who had killed Kenny reversed his rifle and hit him with the butt square in the head. Michael fell to the floor in a heap. His head exploded with pain, but the blow hadn’t knocked him unconscious.
“I see you continue to test my resolve,” Chow Yin said. “Perhaps we need to repeat the lesson.”
Michael slowly looked up; any action sent waves of agony through him, and a sickening nausea gripped his guts.
“Leave him alone,” Alex said. “I’ll cooperate.” A moment later, he added, “On one condition.”
“Yes?” Chow Yin asked.
“Send them all home.” Alex, who had knelt beside Michael to check on his friend, stood up. “Send them back to Earth. I’ll give you what you want.”
It took Michael a moment to understand the words. “No,” he said in protest, his voice weak. “Don’t give the bastard the satisfaction. I’d rather die than give him that kind of power.”
“What you fail to realize, my dear Mr. Sanderson, is that the power has always been mine. Alex’s decision was inevitable.” Chow Yin turned around on his biomechatronic legs and walked away.
∞
Michael was brought back to the infirmary, two soldiers on either side of him grasping him by the arms. The blow to the head had been hard enough that he didn’t have any fight left in him now, even if he’d wanted to do anything.
The soldiers led Alex and Yaxche in a different direction, while several other guards brought in a gurney on which they loaded Kenny’s body.
The suddenness of the young man’s death was almost too much for Michael to process. He’d only known Kenny for a short time, but the two of them had worked very well together. The younger man was extremely intelligent, and as far as Michael was concerned, he would have had a brilliant career ahead of him.
Grief and regret edged into Michael’s c
onsciousness as he realized he didn’t even know whether Kenny had any family. He should have taken the time to get to know the other man better.
Chow Yin. Michael couldn’t wrap his mind around it. How had he escaped the penal station? How had he enlisted so many to his mad cause? How had he managed to wrest control of space from the nations of Earth? There were a hundred other questions he had. Ignorance was as big an enemy to Michael as Chow Yin. Without more information, Michael was at a complete disadvantage; he was at their mercy.
After strapping Michael onto the infirmary bed by the forearms and ankles, the soldiers stood guard until Doctor Naysmith returned.
“Back so soon?” the doctor asked, with that same innocent smile on his face. “Oh, it looks as if you’ve had an accident.”
“How can you work for these animals?” Michael asked. “They murdered Kenny right in front of me.”
“Sad to hear it.” The doctor pulled out a tray from one of the rolling cabinets and extracted a few sheets of medical absorbent cloths. He stood over Michael and examined the head wound.
His voice low in a growl, Michael said, “Chow Yin is a madman who wants more than to rule the world; he wants to rule the entire universe. If you work for him, you’re just another traitor.”
While he gently placed the cloth on the injured spot to soak up the excess blood, Doctor Naysmith leaned in and said, “My life is medicine. It’s all that matters.” He continued to work on Michael, maintaining his smile. “I took an oath: ‘I will not permit considerations of religion, nationality, race, gender, politics, socioeconomic standing, or sexual orientation to intervene between my duty and my patient.’ Everyone has a right to medical treatment, Mr. Sanderson, even madmen.”
Doctor Naysmith reached into the tray again and retrieved a laser suture gun. He pointed it at the gash on Michael’s head and pressed the trigger.
There was an uncomfortable pulling sensation that grew more painful as the skin on his forehead mended. Just when Michael thought he couldn’t handle it anymore, the doctor finished the procedure.
“There,” Doctor Naysmith said, giving Michael a pat on the shoulder, “good as new.”
∞
It was a few hours later when the soldiers came for him. With ruthless efficiency, they unstrapped him from the gurney. Michael hadn’t seen Doctor Naysmith since he’d tended his head wound, and there was no sign of him now.
The soldiers didn’t give him time to get his balance. When his pace proved too slow for them, two of them grabbed his arms and dragged him out of the infirmary.
“You’re ripping my arms out of their sockets,” Michael said, not expecting his words to have any effect.
“We’re almost there,” the squad leader said, as if to reassure him that the discomfort was temporary.
They led him through the halls and back to the elevator, though this time they descended to the lower levels. When the doors opened, Michael saw that they were in the main docking bay area.
Yaxche was there, standing beside a metal casket. The moment Michael’s guards let his arms go, he hurried over to the old man. The soldiers fanned out, rifles at the ready, but they didn’t stop him.
“Are you all right?” he asked, and felt a surge of relief when Yaxche nodded.
“Ahyah. They only wanted me to tell them my story.”
Lowering his voice, Michael asked, “The Song of the Stars?”
Nodding, Yaxche said, “Alex said to go ahead and do so; that it would make no difference.”
That puzzled Michael, and he gave Yaxche a quizzical look. The Mayan shrugged one shoulder. “Alex could have sung it from memory, but I think he wanted a chance to say goodbye to me.”
Michael put his hand on the casket. “I feel bad for Kenny.”
“He makes the final journey. I do not worry; his is a wise spirit.”
The sound of boot steps got Michael’s attention, and he looked around to see Lieutenant Gao approach.
“Mr. Sanderson, I’ve been assigned to transport the three of you to Luna Station, where you will then be put on a rapid transit capsule, which we will send to the Nova Scotia Space Port. I trust you will not resist, or cause any trouble during the flight. I would rather not put you into bio stasis again.”
Michael took a deep breath, then nodded. “You have my word.” He glanced at Yaxche, who gave the lieutenant a toothy smile.
“Good,” Lieutenant Gao said. He took one measured step back, and gestured toward where his ship was docked. “If you will follow me, we’ll get you situated in secure quarters. The flight will last approximately three days, and the capsule trip should take less than twelve hours.”
They trailed behind Lieutenant Gao as he led them to his ship, while the Solan soldiers followed, watchful for any transgression.
In the ship, one of the officer’s quarters had been converted to a temporary detention area. It was cramped for two people, but at least they had some privacy.
Michael wanted to share his theories on what had happened in Sol System, but Yaxche didn’t seem very interested in conversation or company.
At one point, Michael asked if there was anything wrong with him, to which Yaxche shook his head. “I have not had much time for meditation,” he told him. “I am a simple man; I am not used to all this excitement. I only wish to go home.”
Once they reached orbit around the Moon, they were given an hour to stretch their legs before they were taken to the capsule area of the ship.
Lieutenant Gao was there to see them off. “I can’t promise you it will be a smooth ride,” he said. “It will only get rougher when you hit the atmosphere. If you make it through that without any serious damage, you should be fine. We’re aiming for a splashdown off the coast of Nova Scotia. I’ve been authorized to notify your government of your return; they should be waiting for you.”
Michael’s diplomatic side compelled him to say something. “Unlike certain others, you’ve treated us decently, Lieutenant.”
“Of course,” the lieutenant said with a slight nod.
“It’s not too late to change your ship’s course. Come with us. Turn yourself in. I will speak on your behalf.”
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid my loyalty is unwavering.”
Michael said, “I understand.”
With that, he and Yaxche got into the rapid transit capsule and waited as two soldiers strapped them in securely. A moment later, they sealed the hatch, and darkness surrounded the two passengers.
The power of the sudden thrust as they were launched into space toward Earth was surprising to Michael, even though he was expecting the terrific forces pounding his body.
It was nothing compared to the shock he got twelve hours later, after landing in the Atlantic Ocean. When his rescuers opened the hatch of the capsule and pulled him and Yaxche out, a military police officer slapped handcuffs on the two of them.
“Michael Sanderson,” the officer said, “you are under arrest for the crime of treason against Canada Corp.”
9
Kulsat Ship :
Centauri System :
Justine couldn’t think straight. A cold chill ran through her entire body.
You are to be expiring.
They were going to extract information from her and then kill her.
“No,” she said. “I’m not going to cooperate.”
The alien typed. “Where is your kind to be living? How many are they being? How many are Risen? Describe your discovery of the Gift.”
Instead of answering, Justine shook her head, though she wasn’t certain the Kulsat could interpret the gesture.
“We have biology information. Your kind does not see. Why do you motion respond?”
He thought all humans were blind, based on Justine’s condition. She wasn’t about to correct his wrong assumption.
The alien typed. “Why does your kind have eyes, if you do not see? Are you unit-defective?”
The Kulsat were obviously an intelligent species, and Justine assumed this
one would eventually figure it out, but she wasn’t about to speed up the process.
“Biology information,” the machine voice said. “Your kind is to be communicating with sound. We require testing.”
A low humming sound filled Justine’s tank, growing louder and louder until she felt the vibrations go through her body. The intensity increased. Her muscles began to ache, as if she’d just run a marathon. Unsteady on her feet, she had to lie down.
The sound waves pounded through her, and she started feeling nauseated. Her heart beat erratically, as if trying to match the pulse of the vibrations.
She let out a groan, and held her stomach as every nerve in her body ignited in pain.
The low hum changed, rising in pitch. The sound waves no longer affected her body, but her hearing. She clapped her hands over her ears. It felt as if her eardrums were going to burst. If the torture continued, she would lose her hearing, and she would be deaf and blind.
The agony grew, and as much as she tried to hold it in, she couldn’t bear it anymore.
“Stop!” she screamed. “Enough!”
The sound abruptly stopped, but there was a persistent ringing in Justine’s ears. She rubbed around her lobes and moved her jaw to increase blood and air flow.
“Sound communication able to be causing discomfort,” the machine voice said. “You are to be cooperating, or there is to be additional discomfort.”
The alien was going to torture her with sound waves. Justine didn’t know how much of that she could take before he broke her, or before he went too far and ruptured either her eardrums or another internal organ. Sonics could be used as a very powerful weapon.
The science leader had just proven to Justine that he had no compassion or concern for her well-being outside of what information she could provide him. If he were representative of his kind, then a species like that would not hesitate to bring destruction to any world that got in their way. The story Alex had told them was proving true.
Worlds Away (The Interstellar Age Book 3) Page 6