Baldwin's Legacy: The Complete Series

by Hystad, Nathan

  The R-emergence building was subtle, not advertising what they were, and Treena had visited on more than a few occasions. It was a little bittersweet. Since word had gotten out, the company had gone through the wringer, but Treena refused to press charges. She only wanted them to help her heal, and putting up roadblocks wouldn’t accomplish much.

  Two guards in suits stood at the entrance, and they retreated at the sight of her. Even in street clothes, Treena was a familiar face here. “Good evening,” she told the men, walking inside. It was cooler there, and the sensors on her skin tingled with the temperature change.

  The foyer was immense, rising three stories toward glass-walled offices. Treena had always thought the building was a little too opulent, but who was she to judge such things?

  “Treena, glad you could make it,” a voice called, and she saw Aimie Gaad waving at the top of the stairs.

  “Seems like I should be here for this,” Treena said, hoping the joke landed. Aimie laughed, and the tension eased from the room.

  “How’s the time off been going?” Aimie asked.

  “Not too bad. I’ve done most of the sightseeing and have been preparing for my new ship. Reviewing crew lists and all the other stuff that comes with the territory,” Treena said. “And you?”

  Aimie led her through a long corridor, toward a room near the end of the hall. “I’m doing great. I’ll be resigning after I ensure you’ve received the best care. And …”

  “How’s Tom?” Treena asked. She hadn’t seen him in a week.

  “He’s great. It’s been nice having him,” Aimie said with a hint of a smile. She pressed a code into a keypad, and they entered the room, the lights increasing in brightness.

  There she was. Treena stopped the moment she saw herself on the bed. She was so different-looking. Gone were her pallid sunken cheeks, replaced by some color and a more filled-out face. She was so much healthier. Even her hair was thicker: still short, but lustrous instead of dull.

  She lay on the bed with a thin white sheet as cover, and the only machine she was hooked up to was the plug in the back of her head, controlling this android. “She… I look so good.”

  “It’s worked even better than I could have imagined. Treena, would you like to see?” Aimie asked softly.

  Treena nodded. She was scared, but also driven to see just how far her body had come. “I’m ready.” She sat in a chair at the bedside and closed her eyes. “Will it hurt?”

  “You’ll have to tell me,” Aimie said.

  Treena took an inhale of air into the android body. This was her, and had been for the better part of two years. She was strong and capable in this form. Could she give that up? She exited the program, and entered herself.

  Instantly, the sound was different, more muted. She opened her eyes, startled to see the ceiling rather than the view from the chair. Treena was on the bed and almost forgot to breathe. Her breaths came more evenly, with less of a struggle. Her vision was clear, no longer distorted.

  “Try to sit up,” Aimie said, and Treena realized she was speaking to her.

  There was no way to move this body. She’d given up on that so long ago, yet… she lifted an arm, the weak muscles obeying. She used a hand to prop herself up and got into a seated position. It worked! A sound emerged from her throat, and she began to cry, tears blurring her sight.

  “I did it.” The voice didn’t sound like hers, but it was.

  “We’ve fixed any damage to your trachea, and with a little practice, speaking should come easily. I have another surprise,” Aimie told her, and Treena didn’t know how to react. It was too overwhelming. She was in her own body, moving, talking.

  She decided to test out the voice again. “What’s the surprise?” She still sounded like another version of herself, but it ached a little less.

  “Here, let me help you.” Aimie grabbed hold of her legs, spinning her to the side. She wore black sweats, the material soft and comforting on her body. Even with the fabric, it was evident her thighs were very thin.

  “What… are you doing?” Treena’s feet were in comfortable slippers, and the floor landed beneath them. For the first time, her gaze settled on the android version of herself, powered down. The eyes were open, almost staring at her, and she felt self-conscious.

  “You’re going to walk,” Aimie told her.

  Walk? She couldn’t do that.

  “We’ve built up your strength with impulses. Your muscles can handle it, Treena. It might be difficult at first, but no harder than learning to control the android you’ve been living in. I believe you can do it.” Aimie’s smile was bright, and Treena could see why Baldwin was so infatuated with this woman.

  “I can walk,” Treena whispered, letting the doctor put a supportive arm over her shoulder.

  “I believe you can.”

  Treena pressed off with her legs, her hips protesting the movement. Even her spine ached, but she did it, standing for the first time since the accident. She cried openly, happy tears blended with painful ones, and she noticed Tom outside the office. “Can you call him?” she asked, and Aimie pulled a device from her pocket, sending the door ajar.

  Tom stood there wide-eyed as his gaze locked with Treena’s. He rushed inside, stopping a few yards from her. “Treena,” he said, his voice snagging in his throat.

  “Stay there.” Treena took a tentative step, Aimie catching her as the leg almost gave out. She could do this. The next landed easier, and she stumbled forward, winding up in front of Thomas Baldwin. “Thank you.” She hugged him, her thin arms finding enough strength to wrap around her mentor.

  “For what?” he asked, embracing her with great care.

  “Everything.”

  ____________

  Lark Keen checked the time again and rolled over on his side. Where were they? Lark had played his part as a dutiful soldier, convincing the Concord he was nothing more than a desperate man who would do anything to be with his family. The fact was, his wife and daughter would be fine. Even after today, the Concord wouldn’t harm them. They’d live out their days together, and that would have to be enough for him.

  The plan had to work, and considering he’d been able to reach the remaining Assembly members, there was no way they’d fail him. No, he was going to be a free man.

  The freighter was heading toward Seda and Luci, the Concord actually coming through with their promise. It was being flown by some of the GuardBots, the same models as the ones at Wavor Manor. Keen had used his month to study them, to find a weakness, and whenever he had the chance, he would exploit it. Now was that time.

  He was the only lifeform on the freighter, so this was going to be tricky. The lights flickered off, then on and off again as the ship shook with turbulence. The Assembly was there.

  Alarms sounded, mostly for the purpose of any biological crew members, of which there were none aboard. Lark hoped they had his location right, because this could end really badly otherwise. It was a risk he was willing to take. He couldn’t be a prisoner anymore.

  The pulses entered the hull, sending the hair on his neck straight up. The beams would disable the GuardBots, but only for a few minutes. Lark heard the life support shut off, the vents going silent.

  Noises erupted from outside his cell, and soon the spark of a cutting torch landed inside the room. A man kicked the fresh opening in the bulkhead, sending the heavy metal to the floor with a bang. He grinned widely behind an EVA helmet and tossed Keen a temporary suit with breathing apparatus. “Hurry up, boss man.”

  Keen smiled, going as fast as he could. “Thanks for the lift.”

  ____________

  “Captain Thomas Baldwin.” Admiral Jalin Benitor smiled despite the deep worry lines over her ridged forehead.

  “Admiral,” Tom said, nodding as he entered her office.

  “Have a seat,” she said, and he did. Her office was more vibrant than he’d expected. There was a vast array of art over the walls, most from the Far Moons, and he noticed Tekol instrument
al music playing quietly through unseen speakers.

  “Quite the place,” he told her.

  “Tom, how about we cut to the chase?” She leaned forward, resting her palms on the dark wooden desk.

  “A woman of few words. I like it,” Tom said.

  “Have you decided? We have things in motion and can’t delay them any longer.”

  “I’ve decided.”

  She was clearly growing annoyed with his delay, especially considering they’d demanded the answer a month ago. He’d needed that time to check on his feelings for Aimie, and for the city of Ridele. When it was just him, he struggled to find anything he appreciated about the concrete jungle, but when he was with Aimie, everything changed, shifting from loveless and dull to vivid and thrilling.

  “Out with it, Baldwin.”

  “I’ve decided to accept the role. I’ll step aside from Constantine and work with you here on Nolix.” The words were more difficult to let out than he’d assumed.

  “Be aware that your prior role will be filled. You cannot return to your ship on a whim,” she said.

  “I understand.”

  Admiral Benitor stood, patting the patch of the First Ship on her uniform. The collar was black, denoting her rank, which was now his rank. “Welcome, Admiral Baldwin.”

  Goosebumps rose over his arms, and he stood, nodding to her. “I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

  “First order of business…”

  “Right to the chase.” He sat again. “Before we begin, can you tell me who’ll be taking over Constantine?” The crew had been relentless in trying to learn who his replacement was going to be, and he’d promised to tell them as soon as he was able.

  “I think you know her. She comes highly recommended, and since Cecilia isn’t ready as planned, we decided it made more sense this way.”

  Tom grinned at the Callalay woman. “Treena Starling?”

  “That’s the one. Do you have any objections?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “There’s something else,” Benitor said.

  “Go on,” Tom urged.

  “The information Ven Ittix took from the colony ship that arrived to miraculously rescue the Ugna was enlightening. We’ve determined the path of the vessel, and it’s clear the fifth Pilia craft was sent to the Sol system a million years ago,” Benitor said.

  “Sol. Why do I keep hearing about this place?”

  “It’s not well known, but…” Benitor squinted, as if she was judging whether to share the details or not. He waited while she decided. “There’s a planet there, called Earth.”

  “Earth?” The name sounded strange off his tongue.

  “Yes, Earth.”

  “Is that supposed to evoke something in me? I mean, there are planets everywhere,” Tom told her.

  “This one should. It’s where humans originated,” she said.

  Tom’s jaw dropped, and he listened as the admiral recalled a tale about an ancient world.

  The End

  Copyright © 2020 Nathan Hystad

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover art: Tom Edwards Design

  Edited by: Scarlett R Algee

  Proofed and Formatted by: BZ Hercules

  Prologue

  The alarm chimed softly through the office, drawing Brandon’s gaze off his work. “Computer, what tripped the sensors?”

  “Movement in quadrant zero point seven, sir,” the computer’s feminine voice told him.

  “Zero point seven…” Brandon found the referenced region on his console and put his hands behind his head as he watched the feeds. “Damn it.” He kicked away from the desk, rolling across the floor to the transmitter. He quickly pressed the blue button, trying to reach the others. “Guys, we have a code nine.”

  He waited for the response. When none came within a minute, he tapped it again. “Quit messing around. We have a code nine. They’re coming.”

  Still nothing.

  Brandon rose, rubbing sweaty palms on his gray jumpsuit. He saw the patches in his reflection but ignored the symbol that used to mean so much to him. He should have ripped them off by now.

  “Where are they?” he muttered to himself, leaning over his screen. He linked to the camp drones, sending one high above the Martian surface. The camp was spread out below, and he was proud of what they’d accomplished in a decade. Ten years of blood, sweat, and tears. This was their home.

  Brandon tried not to think about the brother he’d left behind, or any of the countless others that had been lost since their escape, but he couldn’t help it. Clark would be so proud of him. But if President Basher discovered them, it was over.

  The camp was spread out across two square kilometers, with seven habitats interconnected by long underground tunnels, and the drone hovered over the first dome. Behind the clear glass was a humid garden, and Brandon smiled at the greenery amongst the red dust and rock. The juxtaposition wasn’t lost on him.

  The next two domes contained the majority of their population: seventy people sleeping in close quarters. It wasn’t ideal, but they’d managed to make do. Brandon slept in his command center most nights, so it didn’t really bother him.

  When the drone hovered over the fifth dome, half a kilometer from the first, his breath caught in his chest. Someone was there. He saw the glint of metal where it shouldn’t be and lowered the drone toward the anomaly. Two of his people were standing outside the habitat, but from this distance, he couldn’t identify them.

  The rover was approaching, and he noticed the gun in one of the colonist’s hands. This wasn’t good. He ran to the edge of the office, ignoring the alarm from the distant ship’s presence. “Computer, has anything landed nearby in the last day?”

  “No detection of orbital breach, sir.”

  “Then how the hell is a rover heading for our camp as we speak?” Brandon asked.

  “That seems unlikely.”

  “Never mind. Send a red alert. We have company. Direct them to the tunnels and make them seal themselves in,” he said, slipping into his EVA.

  “Sir, most of the…”

  “Just do it, computer!” he shouted. He heard the beginnings of her calm message pouring through the console speakers, and he was about to proceed to the airlock when he remembered the gun. Brandon tested his EVA’s functions, and when he had the green light, he jogged behind his desk, using his verbal password to open the black safe. He pulled the modified weapon from its case and pressed the power button on the side. It whined as the bars filled along its barrel.

  Brandon darted from the office, sealing the airlock first, and exited his command center. It was the only building on their colony to not be connected to the others. He’d wanted to have a space far enough from camp to keep watch, and it doubled as a safe zone should trouble come their way. The airlock hatch was built into the sharp cliff of the crater, and he walked out of it, heading for his own rover.

  The solar panels showed he had three quarters of a charge, and he turned the unit on. It had four waist-high tires, with space to carry four comfortably in their EVAs, along with a truck bed to hold supplies. It was empty now, and he clicked the vehicle into drive, sending dust behind him.

  The idea of an alien rover on their planet was difficult to fathom. They had securities in place to prevent this exact thing, but somehow they’d been breached. First, he needed to mitigate any danger, and secondly, he had to ensure this wasn’t repeated.

  The rover was a couple o
f kilometers from the fifth dome, which they’d dubbed “The Island.” It housed their main facilities: gym, mess hall, kitchens. The dome over was their storage facility, and where they initiated construction on each additional tunnel and structure. Already two more domes were underway, but they were waiting for another supply shipment to arrive. He hoped that was what had set the alarms off. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the path the traders were supposed to take from Earth.

  Brandon slowed as he approached the Island and drove around the far edge, glancing at the sky. It was littered with stars, and his hand settled over the gun sitting on the seat beside him. He wasn’t going to let anyone ruin what they’d created.

  When he was sure he’d be exposed if he continued, Brandon parked the rover, turning it off, and hopped out, his boots landing softly on the surface. The gun felt unusual in his grip for a second, but the memories of the civil war flooded into his mind. His spine went rigid, and he could almost smell the battlefields inside his EVA. “Not now,” he mumbled to himself.

  Hugging the dome, he moved toward its entrance, which faced the expanse of Noachis Terra. Brandon preferred night on Mars. If he closed his eyes while indoors, he could almost pretend he was in a place more habitable, somewhere that the world wasn’t trying to harm him at every bend. This desolate landscape had killed twelve of them over the last decade, and there were days he thought that number was a blessing.

  He stopped when he spotted the other rover, this model unfamiliar. Someone stood in front of it. He pulled free the digital binoculars strapped to his belt and peered through them. Not a someone; a something. Brandon had seen androids like this near the end of the war, but this one looked far more advanced. His silver hands gave him away, and the fact that he didn’t wear an EVA made it even more obvious.

  Brandon assumed the android was speaking to them, linking to their EVA headsets, but he wasn’t close enough to hear the conversation. He continued forward, recognizing his friends. Carl was at the lead, Jun beside him. Brandon hoped her reckless behavior was on pause today. He wished she’d stayed inside.