The Exxar Chronicles: Book 01 - The Erayan

by Neal Jones

  "I'm not upset. I'm just...I'm fine."

  "No, you're not. Are you angry with me for telling you that I loved you?"

  "No!" Decev grabbed a mug and poured the steaming water into it. She yanked a teabag from the dish beside the sink and dunked it rapidly in the water, jerking the string up and down.

  Gabriel downed the brandy from both glasses in three gulps and then resealed the bottle. "I'm leaving. Have a good night."

  Mariah sighed and set her cup on the counter. "Marc, don't go." He faced her, exasperated, and she crossed her arms as she leaned against the counter. "I know what you want and it's not possible. It probably will never be possible. You and I cannot begin a romantic relationship. It just can't happen."

  "Why not?"

  "My god, Marc, you can be so dense sometimes."

  "Just because of Paul? Because of our friendship?"

  "Yes! It would just be too...weird! Too uncomfortable! It just wouldn't work, especially since you confessed that you've always loved me. When did your infatuation start? When we first met? After Paul died? When?"

  "I don't know. Probably a few months after we met." Gabriel poured another drink and gulped it down.

  "Give me that!" Mariah yanked the bottle from him and set it in the sink. She took a few moments to calm herself, then sat at the table. She cupped her hands around the warm mug and looked up at Marc. "If we hadn't slept together that night on Kelatia, if we hadn't kept it a secret from Paul, then maybe I could do this with you now. But because of all that..." She shook her head firmly and sipped her tea. "I can't. I'm sorry."

  "Paul was my friend, too, Mariah. And, yeah, we made a mistake, but that was eleven years ago. There's no reason we can't move past all that."

  "You'll just have to except my answer, Marc. I'm not changing my mind."

  Decev's tone was laced with a bitterness that surprised Marc. He grabbed the bottle of brandy and stormed out of the kitchen.

  ( 4 )

  "Ben, the roast is ready!"

  Jennifer placed the meat on the table and began scooping the vegetables into a serving dish. The sound of Emalie's squeals meant that Ben had scooped up his daughter from her play corner in the living room on his way to the kitchen. Since their fight almost two weeks ago, husband and wife hadn't really spoken to each other except during breakfast and dinner, and the occasional evening when they had time to themselves before bed. Ben often worked late, and Jennifer believed him when he said that he was still trying to get the medical sector in order. Several of his staff were just now arriving to fill their assigned posts, and with all the fuss created by the president's visit a few days ago, she had seen little of her husband.

  Normally, this would have bothered her, and she wouldn't have kept silent about it. But this time she didn't mind. She had a project of her own that she was working on, and it was proceeding quite well. In the last two days, she had had five job interviews, and while none of them had called back yet, she wasn't worried. Two more were scheduled for tomorrow, and one the day after that. By this time next week, Jennifer was confident that she would be employed in a full time position somewhere. However, she had yet to discuss any of this with Ben, hence the pot roast, baked potatoes and apple pie. This was his second favorite recipe and his first night home this week. Now was as good a time as any to broach the subject.

  After dinner, of course.

  "Oh gods, Jen, you spoil me," Ben said, and then kissed his wife. He helped Emalie into her chair and then slid a slice of meat onto her plate.

  "Will you cut it for me, daddy?"

  "Of course, sweetheart."

  Jennifer filled her glass with ice tea, then got a beer from the fridge for Ben. Emalie had milk next to her plate. As usual, Ben monopolized the dinner conversation by regaling his wife and daughter with an incident that occurred in the ER. It was nothing too gory, but all the same, Jennifer was getting a little bored with her husband's constant discussion of some aspect of the medical sector. It seemed lately that all he ever talked about was work, and while he did ask her how her day went, it was only after he spent an hour talking about his.

  Gods, men could be so self-centered sometimes!

  When the table was cleared, and after Emalie was settled into the tub for her bath, Jennifer leaned against the edge of the desk where Ben had been sitting since leaving the kitchen twenty minutes ago. She didn't need to look at the terminal screen to know that he was reviewing a patient's file.

  "Ben. We need to talk."

  "In a second. I'm almost finished with this."

  Jennifer was gentle but firm. "No. We need to talk now."

  He looked at her, startled by her tone, and relented. "Okay."

  "For the last week, I've been answering several employment ads. So far, I haven't been hired, but there's a good chance that I could be working full time as early as next week."

  It took a moment for the words "full time" to register with Ben. "I thought that we agreed to only part time positions."

  "We didn't agree to anything. I only accepted part time positions, and you were fine with that. Now I want to work full time. I've already enrolled Emalie in preschool, and there's a daycare facility next to it. I met with the staff today, and I'm satisfied that she'll be taken care of."

  Ben reached out and grasped his wife's hand. "You've already made up your mind, I'm really not in a position to argue, am I?"

  "No, you're not."

  He stood and embraced her, nuzzling her neck, and she smothered her smile as she pushed him away.

  "I'm sorry, sir, but you're still in the doghouse. I haven't forgiven you yet for dragging us here against our will." Jennifer circled around the desk and headed for the kitchen.

  Ben snagged her hand and spun her around as he pulled her back to him. "As I recall, Emalie thought that moving here was an adventure. You're the only one who was against it." He kissed her, and this time it took her longer to break free.

  "I need to finish cleaning the kitchen."

  But Ben kept a firm grip on her hand, and he curled his arm around her, drawing her against his chest, and nuzzled her ear. "I still remember the combination to the doghouse lock. After Emalie's in bed, we could..." He kissed her neck as he slipped his other arm around her waist, and Jennifer closed her eyes, suddenly realizing how much she missed his affections.

  "Why don't we call it even?" She pulled away from him, and this time he let her go. "I'll finish cleaning the kitchen, and you get Emalie ready for bed."

  As she stacked the plates in the reclamator and wiped off the table, Jennifer smiled to herself. That had gone exactly as she had planned.

  ( 5 )

  The com panel's alarm thundered against Gabriel's skull like a Murdohn pecking bird, and it took several seconds for him to realize that he was on his bed, fully clothed, the empty bottle of brandy on the floor next to the wall. Bleary-eyed, the commodore sat up, then waited for the darkness to stop spinning.

  "Computer, lights. Level three." Gabriel smacked his palm against the comm button, silencing the demon which had dared to rouse him in the middle of the night. It occurred to him only as an afterthought that someone was on the other end of the line. "Gabriel," he croaked.

  "Krael Zar, commodore. Sorry to wake you, but I have a situation in Ambassador Vorik's quarters. I need to see you here immediately."

  Gabriel bowed his head, resting his elbows on his knees, and clasped both sides of his head. "Can't this wait until morning, krael?"

  "No, sir. This can't."

  It was the sharpness of Zar's tone which cut through Gabriel's hangover, and he suddenly felt nauseous. "I'm on my way. Gabriel out." The commodore stood, but quickly discovered that it was a mistake, and he barely made it to the bathroom in time.

  Twenty minutes later, Gabriel was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and he hadn't bothered to change his clothes before leaving his quarters. He smoothed the front of his uniform jacket and adjusted the collar, then shoved a hand through his hair, hoping that i
t didn't look too disheveled. The PTL smoothly glided to a halt, and the door opened. The commodore was momentarily shocked by the scene which greeted him. A pair of EarthCorps security officers stood aside, allowing Gabriel to pass, and a forensics team was gathered near the entrance to Vorik's quarters. Zar was in mid-conversation with an EarthCorps doctor. Another pair of security officers guarded the entrance, and when Zar caught sight of Gabriel, he broke off his conversation with the doctor.

  "Commodore. This way."

  The doctor nodded to Gabriel and introduced himself. "Tom Rayburne, sir. I'm gamma shift's CMO."

  Gamma shift was graveyard, and Gabriel abruptly realized that he hadn't bothered to check the time when he left his quarters. He followed Zar across the threshold, into Vorik's living room. The stench hit him with an almost physical force, and the captain nearly vomited a second time. A CSI officer thrust a mask in his direction, and Gabriel gratefully accepted it, fumbling to get the device in place over his nose and mouth before he faced the scene before him.

  The bodies were sprawled in the center of the room, and the furniture was broken and scattered. Emerald blood, so dark it was almost black, splattered the entire scene, as though an artist had gone wild with buckets of paint. Queyn was lying face up, his clothes in tatters, his flesh punctured with multiple stab wounds. Waaris was next to her husband, face down, one arm draped over his chest, the other twisted hideously beneath her. Her body was in the same condition as Queyn's, and, after a couple minutes, Gabriel had seen all he needed to. He charged back into the corridor, walking several feet before removing his mask, and took several deep breaths. Zar joined him and waited patiently for the commodore to compose himself.

  "When did this happen?" Gabriel asked.

  "Less than four hours ago. According to Rayburne, rigor hasn't yet set in."

  "How many guards were posted outside the quarters?"

  "Two. They didn't hear anything."

  Gabriel looked at his security chief as if the man had suddenly sprouted a second head. "Vorik and his wife died amidst a violent struggle! How the fuck could those officers have not heard that commotion??"

  "Sir, the walls of the personal quarters on this station are lined with sound-proof alloys. The ambassador and his wife could have held an acid metal rock concert in their living room, and no one out here would have heard a thing."

  Gabriel swallowed his anger, chagrined, as he realized that Zar was right. After another moment, he said, "Then how was this discovered?"

  "My mother was attacked in her quarters half an hour ago. She managed to apprehend her assailant, and he is now in custody. I ordered Ensign Goldman to check on Vorik." He inclined his head in the direction of one of the guards near the entrance to the crime scene. "That's when the bodies were discovered. The forensics team should be finished in a couple hours. The rest of the quarters on this deck are empty at the moment, and once everyone's finished here, I'm sealing off this entire section. So far, only those of us here know what's happened, and I've made it clear to them that it stays that way until you say otherwise."

  Gabriel nodded, grateful for Zar's professionalism and thoroughness. "Is your presence still needed here?"

  Zar shook his head.

  "Good. Come with me. I want to interrogate your prisoner."

  The commodore marched towards the PTL without bothering to check if the security chief was following or not. For the first couple minutes, neither man said anything as the car whisked them to their destination.

  "Computer, halt lift." Gabriel turned to Zar. "There was a symbol carved into Vorik's chest. What was it?"

  "I don't know, sir. It's vaguely familiar to me, but I can't place it. One of the CSI techs has already downloaded a photo to the terminal in my office. I'll research it as soon as we arrive, before we question the suspect."

  Gabriel nodded, once more pleased with the efficiency of Zar and his staff. "Computer, resume transit."

  ( 6 )

  "It's the emblem of the Holy Church of God's Witness, a radical religious sect made up entirely of humans who believe there is only one true God, the one worshiped by the ancient religions of Earth. All others, including those of Cassandranism, are false, and any who follow them are damned to Hell. More than that, God's Witness preaches that only the human race can be saved through Christ. Since no sentient alien races are mentioned in the Bible, the followers of God's Witness believe that only humans can enter the Kingdom of Heaven, and that the second coming of Christ has yet to occur."

  Zar paused in his narrative and looked up to see Gabriel standing in the far corner, his back to the security chief. The commodore turned, shaking his head, and sank into one of the chairs in front of the desk.

  "Perfect. Just perfect."

  Jerren pulled up a second file on his terminal screen. "The man in custody is Isaac Blacke, age fifty-five. He has no criminal record, and he's been living here for a month. That's all the information I have on him."

  Gabriel jerked to his feet and marched toward the door to the left of Zar's desk. "Let's find out more."

  Blacke didn’t look up when the commodore and the security chief entered the interrogation room. Gabriel took a moment to visually study the man. Blacke wasn't frail, but neither did he possess a sturdy build. It was hard to imagine him assaulting a man of Vorik's size, but the fact that Vorik's wife was also a victim made Gabriel question altogether whether Blacke was truly responsible for this heinous crime.

  "Mister Blacke," Gabriel stated calmly.

  The man raised his head, slowly, his eyes eventually fixing upon the commodore. There was no sign of blood on Isaac's clothes. In fact, there was no indication that he had been involved in any kind of struggle that evening. Jerren hadn't said how his mother was able to fend off her attacker, but if she didn't turn his knife against him, then she must have used some form of physical force to subdue Blacke. Yet he gave no sign that he was in pain, and he didn't appear to have any bruises or broken bones. Gabriel pulled out the chair that was on his side of the table and sat. He met Blacke's gaze, and the commodore was startled by the utter lack of emotion in the man's eyes.

  "Tell me why you attacked Ambassador Zar, and why you killed Ambassador Vorik and his wife."

  For several moments, Isaac didn't reply. He continued to stare at Gabriel, and while the commodore refused to back down, he became increasingly uncomfortable. Just as he was about to repeat the statement, Blacke opened his mouth.

  "God spoke to me in my dream. He told me to kill the heathens who dared to stand against His church. An alliance with the Chrisarii is an abomination, and I have acted upon the holy word of God. If you go to my quarters, you will find the clothes that I was wearing when I shed the blood of the heathens. I thought it necessary to clean myself before I took the life of Ambassador Zar." Isaac blinked, as if suddenly realizing something. "God will not forgive me for this failure. I underestimated my ability to take her by surprise, and that is why she still lives. But it no longer matters. The Chrisarii are dead. Their blood has paid for my loss and anguish. My wife and children may now rest in peace at the right hand of Christ."

  Blacke stopped, glanced at Jerren, then back to Gabriel. If he knew of the security chief's relation to Taelon, he gave no sign. Gabriel took a couple minutes to gather his thoughts and digest the disturbing confession. He cleared his throat.

  "What happened to your wife and children, Isaac?"

  This time there was no hesitation. "They were slaughtered by the heathens on the Danec colony." Apparently this was explanation enough, and Isaac waited patiently for the next question.

  "That colony is one of several civilian settlements in the Shyoch sector," Zar said. "It was attacked by the Chrisarii in the second year of the war."

  Gabriel nodded while keeping his gaze on Blacke. The commodore thought that he had seen and heard almost everything in his career, but this definitely was in a category by itself. He struggled to come up with something else to ask, but there was nothing more to say
. Blacke had the look of a man who was finally at peace, as though he had just rid himself of a very heavy burden. He had lost his family to the Chrisarii eighteen years earlier, and now he had his vengeance. It was that simple.

  Gabriel stood and headed for the door, motioning for Zar to join him. Once they were in the corridor and the door was closed, the men stood at the window next to the door, watching Blacke. His head was bowed, just as it had been before his questioning, and Gabriel frowned as he pondered the man's words.

  "It can't be that simple."

  "Why not," Zar replied. "He's clearly insane. The change-of-command ceremony has been playing repeatedly on all the news feeds for the last few days. This alliance, the treaty, Exxar-One – all of it must seem like a gigantic slap in the face to everyone who lost family and comrades in the war, and seeing that ceremony over and over on the public terminals while walking to work every day must have finally caused him to snap. It wouldn't surprise me if Blacke truly believes he received a vision from God."

  "Is there a clinical psychologist on call?"

  "I don't think so, but I'll check with Rayburne."

  "If not, I want him evaluated first thing in the morning. In the meantime, transfer him to solitary confinement. No one speaks to him without my authorization."

  "Understood." Zar motioned to the pair of EarthCorps officers who were guarding the room's entrance, then fell into step beside Gabriel as they walked back to the security office. "Sir, there's one more issue which must be addressed. I haven't yet informed Major Saveck of this incident."

  The commodore nodded. "I assumed as much, and I understand your reason for not doing so." He paused.

  "Do you want me to tell him?" Zar asked.

  "No. I'll do it."

  ( 7 )

  "I want to see him. Now." Saveck was surprised by the lack of emotion in his tone. He knew he should be angry, or, at the very least, sorrowful, but all he felt was a strange sense of calm.

  Gabriel, too, seemed caught off guard by his first officer's demeanor. "No. Blacke has already given a full confession. Tomorrow he will sign it, and it will go on record. If you still want to talk to him after reading it, then I'll allow it."