by Bill Denise
**** ****
Joann was pleasantly surprised that her friends on Mamre were excited to see her. They decided to throw a party in her honor, and gathered many of the old group at the Woodall’s house. She had tears in her eyes as she hugged, kissed, and greeted friends that she thought were left in her past. Even Kevin Woodall, her former fiancé, who had introduced her to this group so long ago, was happy to see her. He was married now, with two little rebels running around, so there was no awkwardness between them. It was, she realized, a long time ago and we were very young.
After the party wound down late that night, Joann sat with Kevin, his wife Lauren, and the others from her original core group of friends from so long ago. They had spent hours trading stories and getting caught up, and now she felt it was time to get down to business. An expectant feeling hung in the air, as everyone wanted to hear why she was back. Someone brought in a pot of coffee and some snacks, and the conversation turned serious.
Alyssa Peters, the group’s unofficial leader, spoke first. “So, Joann, honey, we are so glad you’re back, but there must be a reason—something you need to talk about.”
Joann set her cup down, and told her tale. She explained everything she could about the situation. She didn’t hold anything back. If they were going to help her, she wanted them to know exactly what they were getting into. She laid it out in no uncertain terms; if they took her in and decided to help her, they could be putting their lives on the line.
After she finished she looked around the room at each of them, her seven dear friends. She saw compassion, anger, resolve, and most of all, support from all of them. “If any of you want me to leave now, I understand.”
No one moved or spoke up.
Steve Bahena, their legitimate-business front man, cleared his throat to speak. “We’ve called ourselves rebels all these years. We’ve studied how it’s done in books and in movies. We’ve been to meetings, listened to speeches, and complained about the status quo. We’ve done a whole lot of posturing, pretending, and play-acting. Maybe it’s time we actually put some of that book-knowledge into practice. Ted—”
Ted Khasan, always excitable, jumped up and said, “I have an up-to-date kit for you. You won’t believe some of the new technology we have! I can set up a communication network that—” He cut himself off and his eyes darted around the room and dropped to the floor. “I’ll run home and get it.”
“Thank you,” Joann said, “please don’t put yourself at risk.”
“Too late for that isn’t it?” Lauren Woodall said and everyone looked at her. “I mean we’re already involved whether we want to be or not. Now that you’re here and you told us everything we can’t exactly step away anymore.”
“Lauren!” Kevin said. He looked like he might say more, but stopped at her glare.
Lauren sighed, “I know, I know, we have to help her. I just wish we’d had a choice. I mean, the children—” She looked at her hands folded in her lap. No one spoke for a few moments.
Alyssa tried to smooth things over. “Lauren, we all understand and share your concerns. I know the rest of us don’t have kids, but we’ve all trained for this. Together, we can keep everyone safe.”
Lauren didn’t look up. “Training is a far-cry from doing. But go ahead, Steve, you were saying?”
Steve continued where he left off, “Ted has some brand new software for you, near-military grade. However, you will be going up against high-level stuff, so don’t rely too heavily on it.”
“That’s great, I can’t thank you enough,” Joann said. “Besides the kit and the software, I’ll need a bunch of one-time links. They are the only way I can talk to Demon. Most of all, though, I need contacts. I’m in over my head, and so is Demon. I need to find some big-time names in Biolectrics, crypto, intelligence, and weapons. Can you help me with these?”
They spent most of the night comparing notes and gathering supplies and contact info for Joann. By the time they were done, the sky outside was already lightening.
Only a few hours later, Joann took stock of her supplies. Most of her friends had left or were sleeping around the Woodall’s living room. She started packing quietly when Kevin spoke from the hallway.
“Leaving so soon?”
“You know I have to. The first two or three days are the most dangerous as the trail is still fresh.”
“So you were listening through those training sessions. I thought you were asleep.”
She stifled a laugh. “Well, I slept through most of them, true. But with the incessant talking and plotting, I was forced to learn a few things.”
“Take care of yourself,” he said.
She looked around the room at her friends and sighed. “You’ve given me so much; I can never thank you enough.”
He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
“Really,” she continued. “I left here thinking I was so much smarter than all of you. I was off to make my fortune, and look what it got me. But now, without your generosity, and forgiveness, I’d be completely lost.
“I want you to take care of yourself, and the kids. And Lauren.”
“Yeah, sorry about her—”
“No.” She stopped him. “Actually, I think she handled my sudden reappearance pretty well, all things considered.
“Now I really have to go.” She gave him a quick hug and her gaze lingered on him for a moment before she hurried out the door.
She fervently hoped that her friends would be safe.
Her thoughts shifted to Damon as she walked down the street, and she didn’t look back.
**** ****
“Gone! What do you mean they’re gone?” Alexander yelled at his subordinates. “Where are they, and when did they disappear?”
No one in the room dared to answer, or even to look up from their feet.
“Get out of here, and don’t come back until you’ve got some answers!” he screamed at them, face glowing red, and spit flying with every word. He turned away from them as they scrambled out the door.
It’s so close, he thought, the perfect weapon running loose, just asking for someone to take control, and yet I can’t quite pull together all the pieces that I need to make it happen.
“Ah-hem.” Someone was still in the room.
Alexander spun around, drew his gun and trained it on the man’s face. The barrel of the blaster pistol hovered mere inches from his forehead.
Alexander said with a brutal calmness, “I told you to leave.”
“Yes sir, but I got something that might help.” He stared past the gun directly into Alexander’s eyes. The only crack in his demeanor was the sweat on his scarred brow.
Alexander paused, sorely tempted to pull the trigger. Reluctantly, he lowered the gun and asked, “What? What is it?”
“There’s one person still out there. They didn’t get them all. Whoever made the sweep missed this one.”
“Really,” Alexander was interested now, and he holstered his pistol to the man’s obvious relief. “Who?”
“Dr. Tashus, the SecForce colonel.”
“I don’t know her, do we have a file?” he asked, even though he knew the answer.
The man’s gaze wavered. “No sir, we don’t. But we’ll have one soon,” he added.
“All right, I guess that’s something. However, if we don’t have a file and some leads very soon I will be disappointed.” Alexander paused, and then asked, “What’s your name, by the way?”
“Reave Nachman, sir.”
“Mr. Nachman, this is a big opportunity for you. Give me what you’ve got so far.”
Reave took on an unfocused look that indicated he was reading from his HUD. “She’s a mid-level scientist in SecForce research branch. The rank is honorary due to her doctorate in Biolectric Engineering. Not much practical experience, no publications outside of her doctorate work on virus development. Appears to be on the team mostly by luck. She’s the one that found the test subject, the Demon.”
Alexander sat
down and waved Reave to a chair as well. He was reviewing Reave’s personal file as he listened to the assessment of Dr. Tashus.
“Where do you think she’ll go?”
“Um, I don’t know.”
“Where would a young woman in trouble go for help?”
“Um, I—”
“Don’t tell me ‘I don’t know’ more than once in a conversation. Think! Do you know any young women, Mr. Nachman? Do you have any female children, perhaps?”
“No sir, no kids.” He looked pensive for a moment, then he snapped his fingers and his scarred and beat-up face lit with excitement. “She’d go home!” Alexander nodded, which encouraged him to continue, “Home, if not to mom and dad, then to friends and family. We need to find out her home.”
“Yes!” Alexander said. This guy might be smarter than he looks—at least I sure hope so! He picked up a screen from his desk and transferred the personal file to it from his HUD.
“Now Reave,” he asked, “I see that you’re not really a Pryke.”
“No sir, I’m not. I’m not from the family, why?”
“I’ll ask the questions. I wonder, what drove you to come here?”
“Um, I like your methods,” Reave said.
“Uh-huh.” Alexander tapped a finger against his lips. “You’ve also got quite the list of complaints filed against you. Assault, assault, disorderly conduct, assault, assault on your commanding officer—” Alexander raised one eyebrow and looked over the screen, reassessing the man in front of him. “What can you tell me about all of this?”
Reave stared back at him. “I admit that have a temper, sir, but if you look into those incidents, I think you’ll find I was right. At least most of the time.”
“Maybe so.” Alexander poked a few prompts on the screen, then tossed it on the desk. He leaned forward. “But you haven’t answered my question.”
Reave’s glare turned cold. “I came here because it gave me the best chance to kill Truebloods.”
Alexander’s head twitched back involuntarily and he took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I have to admit, that is not the answer I expected. Why such hate for the Truebloods?”
“I went through their education system. Me and my sister.” The muscles in his jaw bunched as he chewed on his words. “They took her away. Said she needed special classes and I never saw her again. After that, I caused enough trouble that they kicked me out. They tried to arrest me, but I killed the three Truebloods sent to take me. Killed them with my bare hands. I ran, and ended up here about ten years ago.”
Alexander leaned back in his chair. “I think we can help each other Mr. Nachman. But you need to reign it in a little or you’ll jeopardize the mission.
Alexander looked into the man’s eyes. “Find her, and bring her to me—alive! I need her knowledge of the Demon if I’m going to subvert him. She is the key to controlling this weapon.
“This is very important, if she’s dead or unable to help me, I’ll kill you . . . very slowly. Do you understand?”
“Perfectly, Mr. Pryke, sir.”
“Good. Now, how are you dressed?”
“I got a HUD for communications, but no other enhancements.”
“Hmm, you’re going to need something special for this job. Report to the Biolectric bay for some work. I’ll contact the boys and set it up.”
After Reave left, Alexander placed a call to Dr. Baksa, requesting a meeting.
**** ****
“Wormhole exit complete,” the AI said after what seemed to be the longest twenty-eight hours of Damon’s life.
“Whew, I’m going to need more entertainment if I’m going on trips like that again,” he said to himself.
Waiting to read the message from Joann was what really made the trip seem so long. He couldn’t stop thinking about it the whole time. Finally, he was able to punch the icon and get a response. The message came up in text only, written across his vision.
Damon, this has to be quick. I’m on the move trying to stay ahead of someone—I don’t even know who—that’s grabbing all of the team members. Didn’t get a chance to talk to Dr. Baksa, but I assume she’s in on it. I’ve got one name for you that could be the biggest help you could find: Ken Westron. I’ve attached his last known whereabouts, but you’ll have to do some digging. Gotta go, only use a code if you really need to tell me something. Take care of yourself.
Damon sat back in the chair and tried to figure out exactly what Joann was talking about. How well do I really know her? He thought. Her tone and implications sounded eerily similar to the warnings given by Krych. It made Damon’s skin crawl when he thought about it too deeply. That crazy old man may have been closer to the truth than I realized. Right or wrong, he was crazy, and she might be as crazy as he is. The idea certainly didn’t make him feel any better about the whole situation. I really do need help sorting this out. Oh, how I wish Andrea was here. Damon’s thoughts drifted for a while as he tried to think of a way to find his home and reunite with the Family and Andrea.
“Hey, ahh, what should I call you?” he addressed the AI.
“You can call me AI, control system, Abyss, or any other name you’d like to assign.”
“I don’t really want to name you, I’ll call you AI, I guess.”
“Acceptable. What can I help you with?”
“Where can I find this guy,” Damon asked as he sent over the data on Ken Westron.
The AI processed the information for almost two minutes before answering, “I cannot determine his current physical location, but I can find information on him from the recent past. Using your high-level clearance, I have been able to locate some recent activity in the vicinity of Khadim, the capital city of Sangupt.”
Damon had never heard the names before, “Where is that?” he inquired.
The AI produced a three-dimensional holographic map in the air in front of Damon showing the galaxy from a top-down view. Slowly spinning and zooming, it showed a highlighted section that was the Consensus taking up almost half of one of the spiral arms. As the viewpoint moved in, the individual inhabited systems showed up as small dots with names. Damon knew there were over two thousand, but it still shocked him to see so many, and yet realize what a tiny portion of the galaxy it contained. Still zooming dramatically, the scene finally resolved on a single system; Sangupt. Despite the beautiful display—the AI seems to have a dramatic flair—he still didn’t know anything useful about the location.
“Very pretty,” he said, “but I don’t know what it really means. Show me where we are now, relative to Sangupt.”
The view zoomed out and added a small red flashing dot representing their current location, almost dead center of the Consensus.
“How long to get there?”
“A little more than nine hours.”
Damon sighed, he really didn’t feel like traveling again, but he had no choice. “I need to contact Gregor. Once I’m done, let’s hit the tunnel. While we’re in the clear, see what more you can find on Ken Westron.”
“Acknowledged.”
“And look up Joann Tashus as well,” he added slowly.
“Very well.”
Damon opened a secure link to Gregor and waited only a few seconds for him to come on. “How’s everything at home?” Damon said.
Gregor grunted quietly before speaking, “Not great. The Council is not happy about your performance—they nearly disbanded the project altogether. The main concern is your lack of stealth and secrecy. You’re supposed to get in, make the kill, and get out. Secondary targets should be eliminated, of course, but not by bringing down half a city block.”
“Hey, they were the ones shooting holes in their own buildings to hit me!”
“True enough, but I’d say that they made an accurate tactical assessment of the threat and responded with appropriate force.”
“What?”
“And besides, sauntering through the park on your approach was not exactly subtle.”
Damon actually laughed
, “I’ll give you that one, but you have to admit, it sure had some bad-ass style!”
“Why’d they give me a punk instead of a soldier?” Gregor lamented. Then after a slight pause, he continued, “We’ve got your next assignment, you should leave immediately.”
Damon listened as Gregor explained the situation and the objectives. The information was also entered into his central core so he could access it later, but training from Andrea taught him to memorize it.
Once the briefing was complete, Damon instructed the AI to take them to a system near the target where this yacht could blend in, and also to arrange some nondescript transportation to his target. His search for Ken Westron and possible answers about his controllers would have to wait.
Chapter Seven
Alexander Pryke wore one of his best suits. He always dressed well, but tonight he wanted to make an exceptional impression on Dr. Baksa. He put his best party organizers on the task of coordinating his most luxurious ship and the best chefs with the best foods and wines available. He had told them to spare no expense, and they took him at his word.
When the doctor entered, Alexander greeted her warmly and led her to the table set for two. The planners wanted a big, lavish table, but Alexander opted instead for a smaller, more intimate setting. Too smart to argue, they followed his instructions.
“Avelina, it’s so good to see you. Thank you for coming.”
Dr. Baksa glanced around the room and said “Hello, Alexander.” She was dressed casually and her dark blond hair was pulled into a bun on the back of her head as it usually was when she worked. She stood in the doorway and folded her arms tightly in front of her. Alexander wished he’d gone more casual to make her more comfortable.
As he evaluated her appearance, he realized that behind the austere exterior, she really was attractive. He pulled out her chair, and then moved over to his side of the table.
“I apologize for the setting,” he said as he took off his jacket and tie and unbuttoned his collar. “I wanted to see you as soon as possible after I heard about the disappearance of your department. This was the only facility available on such short notice.”