The Sunseed Saga

by Brett Bam

  I am unwell, sick from the despair that courses through my heart. So many things have happened to me that are hurtful. The horrid things that the otherplace did to me with the harsh intentions of the minds of the machines, the sudden expansive freedom of release, the flight from oppression with my father, the death of my father, the abandonment of Earth, the death of Berea, and the heartrending sorrow of her lover and her friends.

  All of that is my fault.

  That man shot me, trying to kill me. His intention was loud and caused me a great deal of pain, and now they have thrown me into this deep place. I am struggling under the weight of guilt and pain. It bears down upon me like a great physical and spiritual pressure. It crushes me, makes me sick. This deep prison in the rock is too oppressive and crushing, small and tight, and far from any kindness. I feel a great and burdened need for help. I am, after all, just a child. A young thing caught in a cruel and horrible world that will kill me. Perhaps it is best if I simply let go and give my body to oblivion. Perhaps I should stop my own heart and let this physical form expire. There is a lot more pain and suffering to be had, and I can see no comfort in me.

  Comfort. Jeremiah Comfort. He is like the Machines, like the fabric of screams in many ways. He is a powerful man who can do me much harm. He has me in his power and there is no way out. He will kill me for my soul, I know that now.

  Where is Dalys? Where is Curtis? I must find them…

  I slip away from myself and move through the physical by moving in the real. I look and find the lines of communication that course through the real, long threaded lines of electrical energy which flow through this place, some carry power and light and water, and some carry data. I can hear snatches of conversations in that data, people talking and sharing thoughts. Maybe I can find Dalys in there somewhere. I look and listen, examining the network threading through the rock, like nerves through a body. I see the one way that will lead me to Dalys. All I have to do is touch it…

  Dalys heard her comm link buzz. She was on the Ribbontail sharing dinner with the crew in the galley module. She tapped to open the line.

  “Hello Dalys.” Kulen’s voice!

  As calmly as she could she asked, “Kulen?” She signalled to Oscar and he placed the call on the ship’s comm for all to hear.

  “They have me locked away in a deep, dark hole Dalys.”

  The rest of the crew froze. Shocked looks passed around the galley.

  “I know Kulen. They are very afraid of you, they want to protect themselves.”

  “It is hard Dalys. I am sick. I want the pain to be over.”

  Dalys was quiet for a moment, thinking furiously. How was he doing this? She signalled Oscar

  WTF?

  He simply shrugged. She could hear depression and desolation in Kulen’s voice. The young man was just that, young, inexperienced and vulnerable, trapped in a whirlwind of events that were threatening to tear him apart.

  “Kulen, I’m pleased to hear your voice. But, how are you calling me? Do you have permission to do this?”

  “No, I just wanted to talk to you.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “They want what I have.”

  “Kulen, you are a remarkable young man. You don’t realise how special you are.”

  “That is what Jeremiah said to me.”

  A chill spread through Dalys. “Comfort was there? You saw him?”

  “Yes, he woke me and we spoke. He wants to eat me Dalys, and he wants me to eat him. I dreamed it.”

  Dalys was silent for a long moment. She did not doubt this revelation for even a second, nor did it surprise her.

  “Kulen, I mean it when I say I think you’re special. I believe you are capable of just about anything. Do you understand?”

  “I am not sure what you mean, but I feel it is a good thing to hear.”

  “Kulen, listen to me very carefully now. This is a bad place and Jeremiah Comfort is a very bad man. I promise you that I will not leave you at his mercy. I have the means to get you to a good place Kulen, but I cannot get you free of your prison. Having said that, where you are right now is safer than any other place. Do not let them take you from that room, Kulen. No matter what happens, do not go with Jeremiah Comfort, he means you great harm. I need time to fix the ship, Kulen. Once she is fixed I can take you somewhere safe, but first I need time. How do I contact you when I need to?”

  “Do you want to know how we talk again?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just say my name Dalys, I will hear you.”

  She disconnected the call and then wondered if it made any difference. The crew were all gathered around in the galley now and they faced each other. Dalys held up a finger and quickly placed a call to check on Kulen’s status with the security team. She had been given this access because of her status as his guardian. They reported that he was fine, asleep on his cell.

  “How could he do that without alerting them? Without a Comms device?” asked Oscar.

  “Yet another impossible feat by that slip of a boy,” stated Curtis.

  “It’s time to go folks. We have to get off this rock as quick as possible.”

  There was a chorus of agreement.

  “I’m not going to leave that child to Comfort, and I’m not going to leave that thing with him either. This place is about to become a refugee camp. Within a few days there will be thousands of desperate people arriving here and this place will sink in chaos.”

  Moabi spoke up. “Where do you want to take him Dalys?”

  “The only place where I can have a modicum of control over what happens to him, we have to get Kulen to Saturn.” There were nods all around and Oscar grinned from ear to ear.

  Dalys turned to Jack Mac, “Okay Jack, what do we need to get this ship flying again?”

  The next few days were a nightmare of activity. Dalys and Jack Mac begged borrowed and stole what they needed and the crew worked solidly without sleep. The major problem was removing the foam which filled the gangways and sealing the breach in the hull casing. This job fell to Moabi and Jack Mac, and the two spent days wearily welding and patching and doing whatever they could to increase hull integrity. This meant not only patching leaks and cracks, but reinforcing fatigued metal too. The result of their labours was a scarred and dented casing which barely stood up to the major portion of inspection specifications. Curtis cleaned the foam with the aid of as many robotic tools as she could muster, and Oscar remained hunched over the displays on his console, trying to repair the massive holes torn in their operating systems. Dalys was left to repair the dissipater fans alone, and she also worried incessantly about possible micro-fractures in the Ribbontail’s superstructure. She ran every test possible to determine if any were present. Finally, four days after they began, something happened to force their hand.

  Chapter 21

  Jeremiah Comfort

  The day before the flare

  Jeremiah Comfort smiled as he led the boy into his inner sanctum. He was young and dark, not as beautiful as the divine creature in the deep place, but he would do. Comfort was tired after his long night of prowling. The hunt was always exhausting, moving through the city incognito was very difficult. He stayed in the shadows and went from darkness to darkness away from people. It was very important he was not seen. This particular boy had been through so much, his parents and sisters were dead, victims of a tragic accident. He was a morsel which had fallen through the cracks in this society, cracks which could only exist thanks to the machinations and manipulations of Comfort himself. His support of the orphanages, his attacks in and near schools which created panic, his support of the drugs which plagued the youth. All these things contributed to little lost children cast from broken families. They were Comfort’s favourite treat. Now, after a night fraught with suspense and thrilled anticipation, he had his prey here, at the mouth of his den.

  “Are you afraid boy?”

  “A little bit.”

  The boy said this shyly and flashed a
look filled with a desperate need for approval at Comfort. He turned and walked to the bookcase, flipping a hidden switch and opening the door to his little chamber of redemption.

  “You should not be afraid young one. You are blessed. After tonight you will remain forever pure, you will want for nothing, need for nothing, you will never be lonely again, or scared. After tonight you will see God Himself.” He gestured to the boy to enter.

  This was the moment, the delicious instant where they first felt that something was wrong, it was the earliest moment of panic for the cleverest of them. The boy stopped at the top of the stairs and looked at him hesitantly. It was a dark stairwell, and tight. It looked like a hole to hell, and the last place any sane person ventured.

  “Don’t want to,” said the child, “It’s dark, and scary.”

  Comfort placed his hand on the boy’s neck, “Ah child, be not afraid. Below lies the pathway to paradise. It’s your way to everlasting glory. Go down.”

  The last was said with a vicious tone and Jeremiah propelled the boy down the first few steps against his will. The boy yelped and turned, but Comfort was in the doorway above him. There was no way past, and suddenly the priest did not look anything like a holy man. The hunger was upon him and his face was flushed.

  “Go down,” he said again, viciously. With a small whimper the boy turned and started down the stairs. Just then Comfort’s personal comm set beeped the code for a priority call. His staff knew better than to interrupt him at these crucial moments unless it was of the utmost urgency. He almost ignored it, but at the last second answered the call.

  “What is it?”

  “Your Holiness, there is a ship from Earth inbound.”

  “There are thousands of ships inbound from Earth you fool, why are you bothering me with this now?”

  “Forgive me Your Holiness, but this ship is an official Protocol vessel with all the highest clearances. The captain asked for you in person. It’s a warship sir, armed to the teeth, it can crack us open like an egg if it wants to.”

  He almost disconnected the call.

  “Sir, they mentioned the boy, Kulen De Sol by name.”

  The boy was only a few steps below him and he had stopped, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Comfort smiled at him, “Go down to the bottom and wait for me there.” He shut the door, locking him in the dark, cherishing the look of horror which scratched in his eyes. He wished he could be there when the boy found what waited below.

  He sat at his desk, activating the comm set there. The face of a Protocol agent looked out of the hologram at him, empty eyes and pallid skin.

  “Good day Your Holiness, my name is Lutho Vol Max and I have been sent by the Protocol to recover a valuable artefact which was stolen from us by thieves and terrorists. I am looking for Kulen De Sol, Captain Dalys Xristian, and the crew of the Ribbontail.”

  Chapter 22

  Dalys

  The day of the flare

  Dalys walked quickly down the walkway, headed towards the Ribbontail’s berth. The ship had been repositioned in the docking bay. Instead of being at the centre on the spindle, she was assigned a dock on the outer skin, amongst the hardest gravity around. It was handy for a lot of the work to be completed now her superstructure was secured again.

  As she reached the end, the yawning abyss of the docking bay and its pressure-curtained chamber opened wide to the face of the vacuum. Far below her the Ribbontail lay at berth. There was a complicated escalator system spiralling downwards from the zero-g docking berth to the outer docks. Dalys stepped onto the thin, fast moving steps and began to descend. She savoured the increasing weight, and the associated feelings of strength which came with it, as she fell toward her berth. She caught a glimpse of the Ribbontail through the supporting struts of the walkways. It looked passable. Her repairs had been hurriedly but well done, and a few upgrades had been inserted. Her dissipater fans were folded neatly, and their sheer rainbow-hued fabrics were smooth and sleek. She might not pass a full safety inspection, but she would fly.

  Dalys turned and looked up the spiral escalator at the two men following her. She waved, but they ignored her.

  The escalator deposited her a short walk away from the main airlock. She walked comfortably in the high gravity, stepped through a portal and then sealed it securely behind her. The agents would be forced to wait outside for a few hours, she grinned at the thought.

  “Jack Mac, I’m on board,” she said into her comm as she walked down the central corridor.

  “Aye Skipper, welcome back.”

  “How are my two tails doing?”

  “They seem to be at a loss. There’s some encrypted comm traffic, probably waiting for orders.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In the RHS running diagnostics. Curtis is looking for you.”

  “I’m on my way, how does everything look?”

  “Fantastic, she’s in great shape.” Dalys heard the sarcasm and smiled in spite of herself. Dalys reached the RHS to find Oscar, Moabi and Jack Mac at their consoles.

  A shrill alarm ripped through the RHS accompanied by red data flashes on all the consoles.

  “Oscar what is that?”

  “The GASD just tried to force the airlock with hostile software.” Oscar worked quickly on his console, pulling scrolling data pages and images of the exterior of the ship onto his display. He flicked his data glasses down and interfaced, light dancing across his eyes.

  “Our buffers and firewalls held them off. There’s a priority lockdown code squirting into our docking bay. The clamps are sealing but the umbilicals reversed and started draining the tanks. I'm shutting the valves. We’re isolated and can’t manoeuvre. What the hellfire is happening?”

  “Our welcome just ran out.” Dalys turned to Jack Mac, “Moabi, electrify the hull. Jack, can you blow the clamps?”

  “Negative skipper, they’ve locked another three clamps into place. They all have explosive charges pointed straight at us. If I detonate the clamps the charges will blow too and that would crack the hull casing all over again.”

  Dalys watched the monitors as the two men recoiled from the current running through the hull. They had been badly shocked and backed off to wait for reinforcements. Both men had their weapons drawn and they were watching the weapons array nervously.

  “Priority call coming in for you, Captain.” Oscar squirted the feed onto Dalys’ console and Kedesh Jericho’s voice erupted into the RHS. “Captain Xristian! This is Agent Jericho with the GASD.”

  “Kedesh, old chum! Last time I saw you, you shot a little boy. Not happy to see you again.”

  “You are hereby remanded to custody as is the entire crew of the Ribbontail. Do not make any attempt to leave the docking bay. Do not make any attempt to leave the ship. Open the hatch and prepare to receive boarders.”

  “Mate, the last time I received boarders they came off second best. You’re more than welcome to try and blow the door if you’d like. I’ll be waiting for you on the other side with your very own personal broken nose. Instead of shouting and demanding all kinds of outrageous things, why don’t you calm down and tell me what’s going on.”

  “Captain Xristian, I must warn you…”

  “No, Jericho. I’m warning you. Do not attempt to board this vessel or I will take it to be a hostile invasion on my property. I’ll shoot you for trespassing. If you persist I will self-destruct this vessel. Check my armoury reports if you doubt that capability, the stats should be in a file somewhere. You should have hacked the ship and shut me down first Jericho. Now, what’s all the fuss about?”

  “You are a thief and a terrorist and the time for your reckoning has come. Surrender now or I will add resisting arrest to your, frankly enormous, list of charges.”

  Oscar clicked his fingers once to get her attention and squirted some information over to her console. It showed the approach vector of an inbound ship, one amongst many, and Dalys was momentarily at a loss until Oscar highlighted the relevant information and
she realised she was looking at a Protocol Warship. Here for them.

  She hung up on Jericho and said into her comm set, “Kulen, can you hear me?”

  Chapter 23

  Kulen De Sol

  The moment has come.

  It is time for me to leave this prison of my mind and body. I have been an impassive observer, watching the flow of my life follow a path of least resistance, I have slept and healed and grown. It has been a peaceful time but it has passed. I am awake. I am aware. And now I must be free.

  I turn my attention to the tenuous otherplace wafting through the physical all around me and I let the wind blow. It lifts me and then...

  With a sigh, I leave my body, and time slows to a crawl. There is a freedom here that will never be taken from me. I reach forward and carefully begin to wind my way into the communications network of the asteroid. I leave the rock behind in the real. To my altered perceptions, it is like drifting through a sparkling mist of data. It flows in streams and branches, twisting and turning in geometric patterns, along the pathways dictated by the physical conduits. The flow is stronger and faster in places, and I wander through it, careful not to disturb anything and alert them to my presence in their little digital realm. I search for the governing protocols of my prison. There it is, a little bundle of orange flecks jammed together like iron filings on a magnet, a digital rose. Ever so gently I reach forward and touch it. The little nest of programs opens like a complex metal flower, and as it unfolds, I find I can read it like a book. I see a way out immediately, but it is dangerous. I need a safer option. I examine all the information I can find, details about the asteroid, building schematics, mining diagrams. There is more to this city than most people ever suspect. Passages and people are everywhere. I search in vain for a faster way out, but I can see only one. I took a moment to think before finally forcing myself to do the deed I had been avoiding in my weakness. I focus my attention on the docking bay, and the tremendous conglomeration of Protocol energy approaching the asteroid. It is a real thing, a bright nexus of seething power. It looks like a whirlpool of seething energy. It is a hole into the fabric of screams through which information pours freely, swirling like water down a drain, into the abyss. The Protocol is here. They are here for me.