They stopped on the stone pathway, and Brax scratched his head. “The map shows she’s this way.” He pointed into the trees, another half-kilometer.
“Then that’s where we go,” Nee said, taking off first. He was like a tracker with a scrap of information, anxious to learn the truth. Reeve had heard his theory of the parasite, and she didn’t want to be anywhere near a small bug that could climb into her, taking over her bodily functions.
The farther they went, the denser the trees grew and the moister the forest floor was. “There’s no happy ending here,” she told them.
Brax nodded bitterly. “I know. We have to see.”
They found her a few minutes later, Reeve sweating from exertion. She wiped her upper lip, and Nee was the first to see the disturbed ground. He knelt, digging with his hands, and Brax joined the doctor. Soon they’d unveiled the corpse.
Nee sat back as Brax rolled Ginn onto her back.
“There’s clearly signs of the mucus,” Nee said, leaning over her mouth.
Reeve stood away, not wanting to get a close-up view of the dead woman.
Nee shone a light down her throat. “We’ll need to bring her to the ship for tests, but I’d say whatever happened to Basel, happened to Ginn.”
“Which means the parasite lives and has moved on to another,” Brax said.
“But who?” Reeve asked, even though the answer was right in front of her.
“I think you know,” Nee told her, brushing leaves from his pants legs.
____________
The shuttle lowered outside the village, Tom having been sent the coordinates by Elder Fayle. She greeted him there, unlike last time, and she was alone. Her face remained stoic as he met her gaze, her uniform still white, her cloak black.
“Welcome home, Ven Ittix,” she said, looking toward the crate hovering beside Tom.
“I’m sorry, Elder.” It was all Tom knew to say.
“Bring him,” she said.
Tom set a hand on Ven’s casket and directed it down the short ramp, his feet finding the gravel pathway that would lead to their village.
“I’ll take him from here.” She glanced into the case once, and Tom thought he caught the corners of her mouth upturn in a quick grin before it faded.
“You don’t want me to come…”
“This is fine, Captain Baldwin.”
“I didn’t want Faithful to engage the enemy. Captain Wan…”
She lifted a hand, silencing him. “That is unnecessary. Ven understood his risks, as did Captain Wan. You are not responsible for their actions or their lives.”
Tom had been expecting something, but he was surprised at this. She turned, not saying another word, Ven’s body moving alongside as she headed toward the village.
Without anything left to do, he returned to the shuttle and flew toward his destination.
____________
The bridge was a fantastic place to be. It was the combination of the sights and sounds that triggered an emotional response in the Bacal boy; even the scents were comforting. Tarlen sat in the seat once used by the traitor Junior Officer Zare of the Zilph’i, but he didn’t let that affect his mood. He glanced beside him, almost expecting to see Executive Lieutenant Ven, but the Ugna was no longer with them.
Tarlen had lost too many people in his short time, and he mourned each one. He’d never again see his parents, Belna was practically a lost cause, and now Ven, the Ugna who’d always shown kindness to Tarlen, even if their interactions had been brief and sparing.
There were only a couple of hours left until they returned to the capital of the Concord, and Tarlen could tell everyone aboard Constantine was nervous about it. Doctor Nee had mentioned something about the Prime being in danger, but no one would discuss it with Tarlen.
“How are you liking the new role?” Reeve asked from Ven’s old helm position.
He grinned at her. “It’s my first day on the bridge without carrying Treena with me.”
“I know. I can see that. She may have had something to do with convincing the captain to give you this responsibility,” Reeve told him.
“I know.” Without Treena calling in a favor to Baldwin, there was no way Tarlen would be sitting here like a real crew member. He also was fully aware that once this mission was over, and the dust settled, he’d be back in classes, sitting with Kriss and learning about ancient cultures.
“Executive Lieutenant Daak, bring us out of hyperlight,” the captain said from his chair behind them. Tarlen glanced back and caught a twinkle in the captain’s eye as he stared toward the viewer. The last time they’d returned to Nolix, there had been a chance of Captain Baldwin losing Constantine. This time, he was returning a hero, with the leader of the Assembly in a cell below.
The stars reverted to normal, and even this far out, Tarlen spotted space stations and heavy traffic around the Nolix system.
“I’ve never seen it so busy,” Reeve said.
“This is what happens when there’s a coronation for the Prime,” Captain Baldwin said, crossing the bridge. He came to stand behind Reeve and settled his hands on her head rest. “Were you here when Pha’n was put in charge?”
Reeve nodded. “I was too young to remember,” she said.
Tarlen soaked it all in, enjoying every moment on the bridge.
“It was amazing. I was a teenager, maybe a few years younger than Tarlen here,” Captain Baldwin said.
Constantine’s AI appeared, without being commanded to, and stood behind Tarlen’s position. “I recall that day well, Captain.”
“You would. I remember you made me wear a uniform, even though I’d only been accepted into the Academy. You told me that no grandson of yours was going to the coronation without the Concord logo of the First Ship on his chest,” the captain said, his words reminiscent and wistful.
“It was true. What do you remember most of that day, Captain?” the AI asked.
“The uniform. I can’t for the life of me remember much about the ceremony. It was long, boring, and I was impatient. But I recall the uniform: how it felt on my shoulders, how it smelled, how others looked at me while I wore it. I knew at that moment there was nothing else for me,” Captain Baldwin said.
“Sir, we’ve been given the green light and a front-row pass. There seems to be some confusion how we’re being followed by three relic cruise ships,” Reeve said with a laugh.
“They’ll know soon enough. Take us in. Inform them of the number of prisoners.” The captain wandered over to the front of the viewer, staring for a few minutes as they moved through the congested space traffic toward the planet in the distance.
Tarlen hoped he’d keep more memories of this event than the feel of his uniform, but wearing it as he observed the bridge, he realized that might be enough.
____________
It felt like everything around him was floating, until he realized it was only him. The empty vial of En’or sat beside his bed, and he stared at the ceiling, which was only a foot from his nose. The Ugna man lowered, settling on the soft blankets, and he tried to remember how he’d made it home. He couldn’t.
He stood, walking on uneasy legs toward his bathroom. He leaned over the sink, letting the cool water rinse over his hands, then his face. The man stared in the mirror, shocked by what he saw. His red eyes were darker now.
He staggered away, not recognizing the man in the reflection. His skin appeared less pale too. Was this a trick of the light?
Someone rapped gently at the door, and he didn’t have the strength to see who it was. “Come in.”
Elder Fayle stepped inside and smiled at him. “Ven Ittix. You live.”
“How is this so?” It came back to him in a flood of memories. Cleo had been hit; he’d sealed her, passed his support to Brax, and shoved them away from the attacker.
“Did you do as instructed?” she asked.
His heart. He’d willed it to freeze, as he’d been taught since a child. “Yes.”
“Then that’s
how you live, my son.” Elder Fayle walked over to his side and ran a hand over his head. “You did well. You saved a life and survived.”
“Why do I look different?” he asked, locking gazes with her.
“Because you entered the Vastness but chose to return. They came too late, but better late than never. I suspect another day in that crate, and you wouldn’t have returned to me,” she told him.
“Who brought me here?”
“Captain Baldwin.”
“Does he know I live?”
“No.”
“What will I do?” Ven had no idea what his next step was. He had a new lease on life, but he felt off, changed.
Elder Fayle set a cool palm to his cheek. “That, my son, is up to you.”
Twenty-Two
The shuttle was crammed full of his people, the prisoners already dealt with. Tom thought about Zare as the doors shut, and the Nolix-issued transport vessel left their hangar, departing for Ridele, Nolix’s capital city.
He’d been called to the prison corridor shortly after it had happened, and discovering the woman lifeless on the floor of her bright white cell had been a kick in the stomach. Lark Keen had continued his ceaseless shouting, even when Baldwin had told him Zare had killed herself because of him.
Keen blamed the Concord, blamed Tom, but it was evident in his glossy eyes that even he no longer believed his own rhetoric. He’d stopped crying out shortly after, growing subdued for the remainder of the trip.
Tom’s crew were lined inside the shuttle beside him, and he scanned over the faces, seeing Reeve; Brax; Tarlen, wearing the glasses again; Lieutenant Basker, the lead fighter pilot; and the good doctor all sitting there, anxiously awaiting their arrival.
The shuttle doors spread open, and Tom saw they were on top of the Concord Headquarters, high above the surface. They were the only shuttle up there, and the wind blew strong and cold as they exited the ship.
“Captain Baldwin, it’s good to see you.” Admiral Benitor stepped toward him. She was still frowning, and she glanced behind him, as if searching for someone. “Where’s Harris?”
He’d forgotten to send word of the man’s death. “I’m sorry, Admiral. He didn’t make it. The Assembly saw to that.”
“We were fooled. We never should have allowed them this foothold,” she said.
“Allowed them?” Tom asked. The others were surrounding him, leaning in to hear the conversation over the noise of the wind.
“Let us speak of this in private,” she said, but Tom held his ground.
“I’ve been through a lot. We all have, and if you know something about the Assembly that you’re not sharing, we’re going to leave right now and not return,” Tom told her.
She looked resigned, her eyes casting a gaze over each of Tom’s crew members present. “Of course we knew about them. Lark Keen has been issuing threats for years, but we never took them seriously. He was a madman, his demands unsettling at times.”
“Well, now you can meet him,” Tom said.
“I intend to.”
“How did they steal the cruise ships without anyone knowing?” Brax asked her.
“The Earon station is under investigation as we speak. Strict protocols will be issued based on our findings,” Admiral Jalin Benitor said.
“Good.” Tom didn’t buy it, but the only way for everyone to keep the peace was to improve and move on.
“Come inside. Shengin is here, and I’d like him to hear about your mission while it’s fresh. He will make an excellent Prime,” Benitor said, turning to lead them off the rooftop.
“About that…” Tom stood firmly, and she watched him with interest.
“What is it?”
Tom nodded to Doctor Nee, who stepped toward the admiral. “Have you ever heard of a race called the Radhas?”
____________
Shengin’s mind felt like it was spilling over the edges, leaking from his ears and eyes, but when he stared in the mirror, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He’d never skipped so many hosts in such a short period of time, and he worried if he was seeing the after-effects of his actions.
He was so close. His host was Shengin, the handsome and charismatic leader of the Zilph’i delegates, and he would soon be named Prime. This would put him in charge of over one hundred billion beings. It was a staggering number, one not lost on him.
What did it matter any longer? He was losing his mind. His memories of his youth were all but gone; the interactions as the smuggler Basel weren’t even fresh any longer. His people were dead, and he was nothing more than a parasite searching for hosts to consume. It was instinctual, built into his DNA, and everything inside of him was urging his true form to escape this host, as it was being rejected.
If he did that, he was confident he’d lose it all and die shortly after. He wasn’t ready to die, so he clung to Shengin, unwilling to part ways with the soon-to-be Prime. There had to be a way to sustain his sanity, his memories, but his research was coming up empty.
There was a knock on his door, and he scanned the opulent setting he found himself in. An artificial fire roared from a projection in a stone hearth across the room, giving off real heat; the furniture was red and stately. He wanted nothing more than to pull a blanket over his head and hide until this feeling of nausea passed, but the knocking grew more insistent.
The memories of hiding in the cavern beside the lake for centuries were distant now, but he sought the same comfort, the banging on this door too much to handle. Shengin searched for a window, and found one behind a row of heavy scarlet drapes. He flung them wide, recalling he was on the fortieth story of the skyscraper. That wouldn’t do him any good.
“Open up, Shengin. We need to get you somewhere safe!” the caller shouted, giving him pause.
Was the place under attack? “One moment!” he replied, hoping it would ease their excitement. The knocking ceased.
Shengin had no choice. An ooze began dripping out of his mouth.
____________
Doctor Nee waited behind the Concord security officers impatiently. “Brax, he knows what’s happening. Why else would he not be responding?”
Brax stared at the door, fists clenched. “We need inside the room.”
“But he’s the Prime-in…”
“Move out of the way,” Admiral Benitor said, and the large men parted their positions in front of the tall residence door for her. She punched in a code on the keypad, and it slid open noiselessly.
Brax had a gun in his hand, and Nee wondered if he should be armed as well. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Opting for safety, he stayed behind his Tekol friend as they entered the room.
“Shengin, it’s Admiral Benitor. We know who you are, and don’t want to harm you. We can talk about this,” the older Callalay admiral said calmly.
Brax stopped suddenly, Nee bumping into his broad back. “We can stop talking to him now.”
Nee peered around Brax and saw Shengin’s body on the plush red carpet. The same mucus had erupted from inside the Zilph’i leader’s mouth, and his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.
“Shut the door!” Nee shouted, but he was the closest one to the exit. He started for the hall and caught a glimpse of the six-legged creature racing away from the room.
“Get it!” Benitor shouted, and Nee’s legs didn’t betray him. He had no weapons, no way to catch the thing, but off he went, chasing the Radhas parasite. Nee knew if they let it escape, it would latch on to another host and eventually leave them for dead, like the trail of victims it had already left in its wake.
It was fast, the body squat with a foot-long tail, eyes on either side of the tip of its body. It almost hopped more than ran, but it couldn’t go fast enough. Nee was on it in a few minutes, cornering it at the end of the corridor. Brax was right behind him, urging Nee to the side.
The creature paused, turning toward Nee slowly. Its eyes spoke of a vast intelligence, its head cocked slightly to the right before it lunged from the ground dir
ectly at Nee. It landed on his chest with a splat, mucus dripping over his uniform.
Brax was aiming his gun at Nee, but the doctor shouted for him to wait. “Don’t shoot me!”
Nee’s gloved fingers tried to grab the creature, which was already scrambling towards his mouth. Nee jarred his jaw shut, sealing his lips, but the Radhas parasite was using its front two legs to pry it open.
“Nee, turn to me!” Brax was shouting, but Nee could hardly hear him. He was in survival mode. He knew what he had to do, and he took the chance, letting go of the parasite for a moment to slip his left glove off. As it attempted to break past Nee’s teeth, the doctor slapped his bare palm on the creature’s back.
The mucus hardened, the air sizzling as his poison worked through the parasite. Its leg went limp inside Nee’s mouth, and he shoved it away. The would-be invader hit the wall, squelching down the surface and coming to a stop on the floor with a splat.
Nee staggered away, tripping on his own feet. Brax stared at him, gaze drifting to his ungloved hand, fear evident as he stared at Nee’s deadly limb. Nee could still taste the salty mucus on his tongue, and he spat onto the floor, trying to rid himself of it. He’d never used his poisonous skin to kill another before this moment, but he’d done it for his own survival, and he could live with that.
“Here you go.” Brax tossed his glove over, and Nee slipped it on, accepting Brax’s help to his feet.
Benitor loomed over the parasite and slowly shook her head. “By the Vastness, your surprising story was true, doctor.”
“I wish it hadn’t been,” Nee told her. “I’ll bring the specimen to Constantine for testing. I’m sorry about Shengin.”
Benitor looked tired, her ridges casting dark shadows over her sunken eyes. “He was a good man. The real one, not the imposter I’d been dealing with. He’d been acting so strange, but he knew things only the real man could have known, so I didn’t doubt him. I thought he might only be nervous for his new role. How is it that a Radhas came to find a home inside him?”
Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series Page 57