The Sunseed Saga

by Brett Bam

  But only to them. I do not feel they apply to me. For I am an outsider, I do not belong here. I was not made here as they were. I am my own creature. I am not like them, although I would like to be.

  If they knew what I am they would not want me here. I would be a great danger and they would destroy me because they would not understand me. They would fear me. And I would not blame them for that. I am thankful for the insight which caused me to clothe myself. My adventure would have been short-lived if I had not complied. Now I understand what Curtis meant. I need to be careful. I need to stay hidden. I need to know more about these people and this place. If I am to ever have a place amongst them, if I am ever to have a family of my own and be wanted and loved, then I need to learn to be like them. I wish to blend in, to belong.

  I need someone who can show me how to do this. I need my friends. I need to find Dalys. I think of Dalys. She has saved me before. She has kept me safe. Perhaps she loves me in her own way? Could she be the family I search for? What about Curtis and the rest? I think of Moabi with his huge bulk and whiter than white smile, Jack Mac, with his gruff manner and short patience, Oscar with his quick intelligence and tender simplicity. Could these people replace what the Protocol has destroyed? Could they be the family I want and perhaps need? Could they love me? There is only one way to find out. I will find them, search this vast city for them, and ask them. Discover if they have the answers to these mysteries I cannot solve alone. A surety of purpose enters my mind and heart. I am no longer wandering aimlessly, I have a purpose. I will find Dalys and the others

  When Jack Mac left the church, he turned toward what looked to be a patch of greenery. There was a gate, and behind it a garden, hedges surrounding a lawn in the centre of the square. He moved through the outer garden slowly, breathing the fresh, scented air. There was a dense mass of pruned greenery in the centre and he strolled toward it. Several flowerbeds grew exotic lilies and orchids he had no name for. A pond’s dark surface was only disturbed by the splash of a colourful fish, its movements rippling the water. A willow draped to brush its leaves over the surface of the water. The unexpected beauty of the garden struck him mightily. He had been stuck on the ship for months, and before that he was in sterile environments for years. He could not actually remember the last time he’d felt grass between his toes. He bent without thinking and took his boots off. The outer walkways that surrounded the garden were busy with a throng of people, but very few were taking the time to step within its boundaries. This inner sanctum was a very quiet and private place, more holy to Jack Mac’s heart and soul than the overly pretentious church. He found a spot under the large willow with thick lush grass that scraped against his white suit of mourning as he sat. He rested his head back against the tree and allowed the thoughts of Berea hammering at his heart to come to the surface. He ducked his head forward and put his head in his hands and wept for the love he’d lost. This was the catharsis he needed. The church had been a mistake, he knew that Berea believed what was preached and he had tried to honour that out of respect for her, but it did not mean enough to him to help his wound. This was far better, a place where he could comfortably be alone and deal with the overwhelming grief.

  A long time passed. Several people came into the park, and seeing Jack Mac in mourning white, and a ceremony in progress at the church, they shied away and left him to himself.

  Eventually, he felt the sadness and despair lock itself into a tight fist inside his soul. It stopped raging uncontrolled inside him, and it began to subside and tighten. He had grieved, and shed his tears until there were no more, even though he knew this process was not done. He would cry for her again, many times, but for now he had emptied his reservoirs of emotion. His cabin on the Ribbontail with the comfortable bunk he had shared with Berea was the only place he wanted to be right now. He spent some time wiping his tears and eventually moved to the edge to wash his face in the sparkling water. He caught a glimpse of his face in the water’s reflection, the sadness was remarkably out of place in his flat hard features, and it surprised him. Then, a face appeared behind him, framed in the reflection, smiling. The eyes flashed all the colours of the rainbow. Jack Mac gave a mighty yell of fright. He spun around and grabbed the stranger. Out of instinct and surprise he allowed his training to take over. He placed his foot and shifted his weight, pulling here and pushing there. The stranger lifted easily and Jack Mac tossed him bodily into the pond. He recognised Kulen as the boy hit the water and became submerged.

  “Kulen? What are you doing here?”

  Jack Mac watched as Kulen sank beneath the water. The ripples touched the other bank and reflected, crossed the pond again. Peace returned to the pond and Kulen remained submerged.

  “Shit. He can’t swim!” Jack Mac lunged forward and waded into the water. It was only hip deep. He floundered around in the spot he’d thrown Kulen until he grasped an arm. He pulled the boy up and out with a lot of splashing and awkward moments.

  “What is this stuff?” asked Kulen as if nothing had happened.

  “What? The water?”

  “Water? It’s marvellous.” The water dripped from his face over his eyes and off his chin.

  Jack Mac grabbed an arm and pulled him towards the grass. Once they were standing on dry land he turned and asked, “What are you doing off the ship?” he shook Kulen as he asked, stern and angry. Water dripped everywhere, Kulen sneezed and a glut of it came from his nose. Kulen looked at the water and ignored Jack Mac. He looked bigger than he had when he’d first come on board the Ribbontail.

  “Answer my question boy.”

  He shook him again and this time Kulen looked at him, and smiled.

  “I left the ship. I wanted to look around, looking for you and the others. I found you, found this garden. It’s beautiful, all of it. This is a marvellous place.”

  “And Curtis just let you go did she?”

  “Oh no, but I left anyway.”

  “Did anybody see you?”

  “Yes, many people saw me. But they did not see me as I saw them.”

  Jack Mac cocked an eyebrow. “You say some strange things boy. The Skipper will want to know you’re on the loose.”

  “Oh, she’s about to find out. Inspector Arad has just dispatched a detail to her location.”

  “There you go again. Who is Investigator Arad?” the boy was smiling from ear to ear, oblivious to the question. “I think I owe you an apology kid.” He shook some water from his eyes. “I've been treating you like the enemy, but I've been wrong about you. You're just a little kid. That's why you look so young, because you are. You really are this naïve and stupid. None of this has been your fault. Berea was not your fault.”

  Kulen watched him as he spoke, his eyes glittering. For a moment, Jack Mac thought of the gun in his hand, back among the stars. He was sure Kulen could see the thought and he grunted, embarrassed.

  “I see why the Skipper saved you, why she put us all at risk. She's responsible for you. That makes me responsible for you.”

  He unslung a leather thong with a small dangling metal cross from around his neck. He dropped to his haunches and placed the cross in Kulen’s hand, his flesh and bone hand.

  “This cross was Berea’s. It is something she treasured and her family treasured. I want you to have it to remind you of her, and what she paid so you could be here today.”

  Kulen said nothing, not sure of what to say.

  “Here's my first bit of guardian advice. When someone gives you something, you say thank you to show gratification.”

  Kulen looked at the cross and then dropped the necklace over his head. “Thank you.”

  Jack Mac extended his hand to the boy, “Now get up, let's get you some dry clothes.”

  Chapter 19

  Eglon Arad

  Eglon Arad was a large man with a stern countenance that had been carved by the daily stress of his position. He had been an Investigator in the Gamaridia Asteroid Security Directorate for 23 years and had seen much of
the dark side of human nature in that time. It had marked him; he had become a cynic. The belief that all people were corrupt was the foundation upon which he had built his career. His attitudes towards those around him had become so antagonistic he drove his lifelong friends away and, eventually, his wife and daughter. They had fled to a neighbouring settlement and refused to divulge their location. He had never looked for them.

  His office was on the 400th floor of the GASD building, and being so close to the centre of the spinning asteroid there was a great deal less gravity than at floor level. He shared a workspace with 12 other Investigators and their staff, and between them they dealt with the majority of serious crime on the asteroid. The space was large and filled with work consoles and people bustling to and fro, but the people made way for him so he moved unimpeded in the long sliding gait best used in minimal g. He returned the few but respectful greetings cast his way.

  Eglon had settled into his office and was about to access the day’s case load when Kedesh Jericho burst unceremoniously into the room. “Eglon, I’ve got a fresh one for you.”

  He was a fellow Investigator, much younger but quite brilliant. Arad let the casual form of address slide as he always did. Jericho was the only person in the Directorate who was brash enough to be so common with him. He allowed it because Jericho was a brilliant Investigator who had proven himself. He was the closest thing to a protégé Arad had ever had. He leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head.

  “Morning Jericho, what do you have for me?”

  “Four cases of amnesia in the Bay. I think it was assault of some kind. The victims were found unconscious, and when they reached the hospital and were revived they had no memories of who they are. I’m heading over to the hospital now to meet the victims.”

  He waved a thin transparent data slip before dropping it on the desk. Arad scooped it up and laid it on his console. The information blinked onto the display, and he waved casually as Jericho left his office. He began to examine the data.

  Four people, two women and two men, had been found in the Bay’s 19th level walkways. Three of them were crew members of different ships and the fourth was a maintenance technician. None of them had any memory of the event, and none of them were acquainted with the others. Arad decided to focus on the Gamaridian citizen first. Arad accessed the maintenance logs and located Ebal Gibeon’s work assignments for the day. The event had occurred scant metres from his last logged task. The three remaining victims were all crew of ships docked on the bay, and the 19th level was a causeway that linked most of the docked ships to the asteroid. The first stirrings of alarm rumbled in his gut. He accessed the security logs and traced Gibeon’s day from the start. After 20 minutes of trolling through a mountain of footage he found an anomaly. He watched with a frown on his face as the image showed Gibeon working on a junction box, followed by two minutes of static. When the image resolved itself, Gibeon was naked and twitching on the ground. He quickly tracked through the footage to the same approximate time and watched as the remaining three people moved down the walkway until the inevitable period of static. The incidents were identical, except the first victim was the only one left naked. He plotted the locations of the events and overlaid them on a graphic map of the walkways. The anomalous events had occurred on a straight line between the central spindle and the receiving halls, in the major entrance from the docking bay into Gamaridia.

  Some very powerful disruption protocols had negated the sensors along the 19th level walkway. Someone had not wanted to be recorded, injecting the hostile software into the system. Arad spent another tense three minutes before he located two possible ships the intruder may have originated from. Of the two it was obvious which was the culprit.

  The Lolita was a belt ship, coming from the Halliwell Cluster. None of its crew members was a victim. The other ship was the Ribbontail, which had been assisted into dock by the Otherc. It was in a critical state after being damaged in a hijack attempt. It had fled the disaster on Earth. There were two Martians listed in the crew manifest. The captain of the ship was Dalys Xristian. He queried the computer for her location and it geo-tagged her, along with several members of her crew, including both Martians. They were at the Church of the Consumption. Alarm turned into a spasm of fear and he bolted from the office, yelling for Jericho.

  “Comfort’s in danger, scramble an armoured detail. I want the Bay sealed off and every square metre between there and the Church locked down. Get everybody on the streets right now.”

  He dashed from the office and into the express elevator. While he dropped to the floor of the asteroid chamber, Arad checked his handgun. It was a powerful weapon with three levels of aggression, he keyed it to non-lethal and set the charge on singular burst before slipping it back into his shoulder holster. Comfort might not be in danger at all, but he was unwilling to take that chance. If he disrupted the great man’s day unnecessarily he would apologise later. The incidents had occurred 30 minutes ago, the intruder could be anywhere in the asteroid chamber by now. The lockdown would help, but it could be hours before they routed him out. The sophistication of the invading software disturbed him. Who would have such ability? It must be a high-end military application; he prayed it wasn’t another terrorism attempt by the Korporatsie. They had been very quiet lately. Maybe this was why.

  Dalys, Moabi and Oscar were caught in the crowd as they exited the church. Because they had entered last, their pew was one of the last to descend to the floor and allow them off. The People’s Pope had swept down the central aisle before any of the pews had descended, and now stood at the door greeting members of the congregation as they exited. The wait was interminable as people stopped to share an intimate word, or knelt to be blessed. A few of the most devout sobbed as they kissed the hem of his robe. The Pope was patient and kind as he blessed and smiled at every member of his flock.

  When the crew moved to exit, the Pope turned to them with an effusive greeting. He allowed his slim caramel hand to be enveloped by Moabi's large black one.

  “My, my, you certainly are an imposing figure sir. I have most definitely not seen you in attendance before.” Up close and personal, the Pope was larger than he seemed. His skin was paper dry and his voice was soft and gentle, not the booming, resonating baritone which had filled the vast church before. There was the aura of great age about him, and Dalys thought there was something flat and unreal about his heavy-lidded eyes. His smile never reached them and they were somehow bored and listless, as if he was above such social niceties. Moabi bowed low and kissed the Pope’s limp, offered hand as he had seen many others do. Then he rose to his full height and looked down on the tall Pope.

  “Your Grace, my name is Moabi Mahlambo. I am the chaos engineer on the Ribbontail, a trading vessel docked here temporarily.”

  “You’re Martian aren’t you, one of the subjugated tribes?”

  “I was once such a man, now I am free.”

  Comfort looked surprised. “I have never met a free Martian before. You are to be complimented on your resourcefulness. I know something of the life of a slave on Mars, to survive that you must be resilient indeed. Welcome to Gamaridia Mr Mahlambo. You will be shown respect and equality under this sky.”

  The Pope touched his forehead with all four fingers, dropped the fingers to brush delicately above his heart, then kissed his thumb and touched Moabi’s brow. He had to reach upward and the big black man dipped his head. A blessing from the People’s Pope was a humbling thing and Moabi felt a rush of paternal warmth which made him smile his great white grin.

  “Thank you, Sir,” he rumbled.

  Oscar quailed and hid behind Moabi, the priest did not see him, Comfort turned next to Dalys and proffered his hand. She touched the paper dry skin and delicately brushed her lips across his knuckles. He smiled.

  “A starship captain who brings a Martian warrior with her must have an interesting story to tell. Welcome to Gamaridia, Captain. What brings you to the Ceremony today?�
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  Dalys dropped her head as she answered, “We suffered a tragedy recently, Excellency. We came today to pay respects to our fallen friend.”

  “I take it by your presence that your friend was of the faith? Did you honour her?”

  “Her body was lost to us Your Grace.”

  “A great shame, I will pray for her.”

  Then Dalys looked up and saw Jack Mac walking brusquely towards her with a young man in tow. He had him by the arm and wasn’t exactly being gentle about it. With a start, she recognised Kulen and frowned, he’d grown significantly. Jeremiah Comfort was standing just to her left, so when he turned and looked at Kulen she saw him in her peripheral vision. The look of pure hunger on his face was horrible. He stared at Kulen with a carnivorous need. It repulsed her. She saw the cannibal inside the man, and he saw her see. There was an instant of recognition between them, one predator to another, and she looked away. Dalys was horrified by the revelation of the man’s internal evil, and then Kulen was standing beside her.

  “Captain, I think you should hear what this kid’s got to say.”

  Moabi stepped up to Jack Mac and whispered something.