Origin Expedition

by Charles F Millhouse

  The watcheyes lay on the dry ground, broken. Colin let out a sigh when he saw Shane in the distance. Colin waved toward him, but his heart rose into his throat when he saw Shane fall over to the ground.

  When Colin reached Shane, he laid in a pool of scarlet. His body riddled with weapon blasts from the watcheyes. “Oh… oh no…” Colin turned Shane over; his eyes were wide open and fixed. Colin checked for a pulse but found none. He sat holding Shane; tears ran down his face in a deluge. Defeated and angered Colin sat motionless. “What have I done... what have I done... what have I done!” his breathing heavy, enraged. “Rest well old friend... I’ll join you soon enough.” Colin sobbed.

  Then without warning the breeding facility exploded. Fire shot a hundred feet in the air. The dry land splintered open from the vibration like a piece of old bread. Colin stood with his eyes wide. He didn’t understand what happened. Not even the EMP release would do damage on such a scale. Could it? Then he realized. The Orlanders would never allow their facilities to fall into enemy hands. He’d always been told stories but didn’t think even they would be so callous. They must have a failsafe built in. How could anyone, even a high-born kill an infant?

  Even with the heat from the explosion a cold rush tingled over Colin’s sun kissed skin and the answer became clear. The Orlanders wouldn’t take credit for destroying their complex. They would blame it on… him or at the least the Highlanders.

  The light of more watcheyes appeared as faint specks of light in the distance; their red sirens filled the dark. Colin’s brow tightened. He picked up Shane and laid him over his shoulder. The pain riddled through Colin, reminding him of his punishment. He fought through it and ran toward the Hallmark in hopes the weapons he left behind wouldn’t be traced back to him. With every step a hardship and every breath a struggle Colin carried on, unsure of the consequences that would befall him over the night’s terrible mistake.

  Tannador House – High Earth Orbit

  The Private Office of Lord Hek’Dara Tannador

  April 18, 2442

  The party guests departed Tannador House soon after the slaves disbursed. The appalled visitors spoke in quiet whispers. Some said they feared for their safety. Others wondered why the Tannadors didn’t have enough security on hand. Several guests outright blamed Da’Mira Tannador for arranging the whole upheaval. Some said: “I’m glad something like this would never happen on my platform.” Yet later the other families learned it happened on their platforms… it happened everywhere. Calls into the Tannador control room from disgruntled heads of each family flooded in. The calls rerouted to Hek’Dara’s personal assistant who passed along the messages. All the families in the Union called for censure against the family Tannador. Hek’Dara in true Tannador fashion protected his daughter and defended her. In their minds, however, Da’Mira was to blame.

  Then the news from the Orlander security force came in. The destruction of the breeding complex at Dalnaspidal changed everyone’s way of thinking – especially Hek’Dara’s who never believed his daughter was capable of such a disgusting act. Da’Mira remembered an old Earth word, framed, that best put what happened in perspective.

  Da’Mira stood quiet in the middle of her father’s office. Her brow knitted, and her jaw clenched tight. She took the full might of her father’s wrath as he shouted; his thunderous voice filled the room, and she waited her turn to speak – if she ever got the chance. She looked at a photograph of her mother on Hek’Dara’s desk. She wished her mother was alive… perhaps things between her and her father would be different. Da’Mira wondered if she would be any different – less liberal and a more proper lady, in an already over saturated world where every woman in the Nine looked and acted the same. Then Da’Mira got angry at herself for wanting her mother alive just to benefit her. What happened, no matter how innocent she was, Da’Mira couldn’t shake the feeling she would be accountable for everything that happened.

  Hek’Dara’s arms flailed above his head. He paced back and forth, his boots made a harsh slapping sound against the floor, he didn’t look at Da’Mira, instead his eyes focused on Quinton.

  Da’Mira looked at her brother. He smiled at her. Quinton had a way of telling her that things would be alright just by his smile. She smiled back for a moment but slacked her mouth back into a frown before her father noticed. She and Quinton were more like sisters than opposite sexes. The pair bonded when they were young. Each shared the same liberal attitude even though Da’Mira expressed hers by going against everything the Union stood for. No matter how hard their father tried to drive a wedge between her and Quinton, he never succeeded.

  “Didn’t you hear me!” Hek’Dara shouted.

  Da’Mira focused on her father. After many years of being lectured, she’d learned to tune him out. One rant sounded like another to her. The only way to cope with her father’s tantrum was to ignore them.

  “Are you going to answer me? What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “I have always been against slavery. I’ve never hidden my beliefs from you, father,” Da’Mira said; her hands on her hips. “I have always taken responsibility for my actions, you know that. You have to believe me when I say I had nothing to do with any of this. I have never lied about my actions and wouldn’t do so now. How could I orchestrate all of this – when even my trip to the breeding facility didn’t turn out as I thought it would?”

  “And you don’t think that it looks suspicious that you were feeding the breeders of the same facility destroyed? I worked hard covering that up, but these things have a way of getting out.”

  Da’Mira looked at Quinton.

  “Don’t look at your brother… look at me!”

  “I wouldn’t put it past the Orlanders to blow up their own facility,” Quinton said.

  Da’Mira lowered her eyes, and said in an even voice, “Yes, it does seem suspicious. But I didn’t do it! All I wanted to do was feed the hungry. Isn’t that what Tannadors do – feed people?” she looked up; sweat glistened on her green skin.

  “Yes, we do, but we do it the way we’re supposed to,” Hek’Dara said

  “We need to investigate. Who knew about my involvement at the breeding camp,” Da’Mira said. “From the shuttle pilot to anyone else who might have learned of what I did and exploit it.”

  Hek’Dara’s hazel eyes widened, and he said, “I hate to admit it, but you’re making sense. Just one last time, to calm my old heart, tell me again.”

  Da’Mira’s voice softened, and she said in slow precise words, “I didn’t do it – I swear on the love for mother.”

  Hek’Dara smiled though Da’Mira still saw shame on his face.

  “What do we do?” Quinton asked stepping next to Da’Mira.

  “I’ve been called to a meeting of the Union. They plan on charging Da’Mira – even though there isn’t proof she did anything.”

  “What can they do?” Da’Mira asked.

  “That’s what concerns me. I’m not sure what they have planned but it can’t be good,” Hek’Dara said. He looked at Quinton. “I think the prudent thing to do is get Da’Mira out of Tannador House tonight. I want you to escort her to her quarters, collect what she needs and get her on a shuttle to Requiem.”

  “Father I…” Da’Mira’s voice snagged in her throat.

  Hek’Dara took hold of Da’Mira’s arms. He pulled her close and said, “I’ve never condoned what you’ve stood, for Da’Mira… I might never.” He pushed away from her. For the first time in many years Da’Mira saw sympathy on his face. Though she wasn’t sure it was for her, or because humanity stood at the brink.

  “I’ll be damned if anyone outside this family reprimands you,” Hek’Dara said. “Go – be safe… don’t come back to Earth until I or your brother calls for you.”

  In an instant Da’Mira saw the expression on Hek’Dara’s face change. The cadence in his voice sounded like he didn’t expect to see her again. She wanted to say something, but the words eluded her. She couldn’t remember
the last time she told her father she loved him and even now, preparing to leave Earth Da’Mira couldn’t say it to him. She wasn’t sure why.

  “Go,” Hek’Dara said. “There isn’t much time.”

  Quinton led Da’Mira down the outer hall around the ring of the family’s private chambers. They didn’t speak a word to one another. Da’Mira felt rushed. She’d hoped to see Gregaor one last time before departure, but she knew that wouldn’t be possible. She didn’t even think it wise to tell her brother of the feelings she harbored for Gregaor. Still, it was best to keep something to herself, even though she suspected Quinton knew how she felt. The best Da’Mira could hope for now was to slip away from Earth and trust that when she left, the problems she caused went with her.

  My Own sat on the edge of Da’Mira’s bed when the doors slid open and Quinton and Da’Mira entered. She sprung to her feet, startled. Da’Mira motioned for My Own to follow her into the closet. “You’ve packed what I instructed?”

  “Yes Milady,” My Own said attentively following Da’Mira into the walk-in closet.

  Da’Mira kicked off her shoes and took off her formal dress; she tossed it to the floor. When My Own went to pick it up Da’Mira said, “Leave it. I won’t need it anymore.” She pulled on a pair of slacks and fastened them in the front. Pulling a dark shirt over her head Da’Mira hid the necklace given to her by Gregaor, under the garment. She slipped on a pair of boots and laced them up in a hurry. “We are leaving tonight,” she told My Own. “Being spirited away in the dark of night is the only way to save face for my family.”

  “It’s always dark in space,” My Own said.

  “It’s a figure of speech… but yes you’re right, it’s always dark.”

  Da’Mira and My Own joined Quinton who waited impatiently by the bed. “All your things are on Requiem?”

  “Yes, they are,” My Own said.

  “Then it’s time to go. Father will leave for the Union meeting soon and by the time he arrives on Watchtower, Requiem needs to be well away from Earth.”

  Da’Mira closed her eyes on the ride in the elevator down to the landing platform. Nervous she hesitated to ask, “What’s it like… away from Earth?” She’d heard stories of alien worlds – setting foot on the soil of another planet didn’t seem real until she prepared to leave.

  “It’s like nothing I can explain,” Quinton said. “The unknown never appealed to me – but I think it’s something you will appreciate. To see the waters of alien oceans and hear the call of strange animals in the unfamiliar wild, can be a scary thing.”

  “I wish I knew more,” Da’Mira said. She remembered the stories told her by Kab’ic Gear. The dead alien worlds, where intelligent life had yet to be discovered.

  “When you get on Requiem find Professor Charles Long, he’s the lead archeologist in the science department. He’ll tell you all you need to know… and maybe something’s he never told me. He can be a great asset. Unfortunately, he and I never worked well together. Might’ve had something to do with the fact I never wanted to go down to any of the planets. Though I don’t think he really wanted me to go with him. And I just wanted to play master of the ship and leave the digging to those who liked it.”

  Da’Mira laughed. Her brother was more of a girl than she. Leaving Earth wasn’t what she wanted to do, but since not going wasn’t an option, she embraced the challenge. The siblings exchanged smiles. “I’m such a fool. If I wouldn’t have gone down to the breeding facility none of this would be happening.”

  “No time for regrets,” Quinton reminded her. “Now go… there isn’t much time.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” Da’Mira replied. She leaned in and gave Quinton a long hug and then instructed My Own to get on board the shuttle. She turned to her brother to say one last thing, “I wish we could… I wanted more time with you.”

  “We will have lots of time once you get back. In a year all this will have blown over.”

  “We both know it might be longer than that,” Da’Mira said looking at the floor.

  “I’ll send a beacon when all of this has cleared. It won’t be that long… you just wait and see.”

  Da’Mira smiled at her brother. He pressed the palm of her hand on his chest. “In the meantime, make sure father is safe. He will need you to support him in everything that happens over the weeks to come.”

  Quinton nodded. “I will,” he said and placed his hand on top of hers.

  Da’Mira again threw her arms around Quinton and whispered in his ear, “Be safe.”

  When they parted, Da’Mira stepped on the shuttle, she didn’t turn back. Instead she looked forward, knowing she could never stop running.

  Watchtower – High Earth Orbit

  Home of the Family Lexor – inside the Union chambers

  April 18, 2442

  All eyes were on Hek’Dara Tannador when he walked through the doors of the chamber. He raised his chin, fluffed his thick dark beard and walked into the room with pride. No matter what people thought of him he was the leader of the wealthiest family of the Nine. He required respect. He nodded toward other family leaders with a leering smile. Even if they didn’t reply with a gesture of acknowledgement he didn’t care. With his head held high he refused to allow any of them the chance to see him pander for their enjoyment. I won’t stoop to that.

  The meeting chamber, a large room with a vaulted ceiling and a polished oak floor glistened from the tinted globe lights fixed to silver and black walls in the room.

  In the center of the chamber stood a long shiny aluminum table; the globe lights reflected off its surface and glistened on the water-filled glass goblets that lined along the surface. Hek’Dara made eye contact with a few of the members who stood around the table. He took his usual spot. A servant held the chair for him as he sat down moments before the outer chamber door opened, and Iris Lexor made her appearance. She entered the room, each step a struggle and glanced at the others. She gave some salutations and took her seat across from Hek’Dara. Her lips thinned and pressed together as she looked at him. He nodded toward her and took a sip of his water.

  Other family leaders took their seats. Hek’Dara looked up and down the table to notice one seat vacant; the chair belonging to Lucinda Xavier. His eyes focused on the door when it sprung open. Three telecom cameras rushed in whizzing about the table. They snapped still photos and took live video beamed throughout the orbital platforms. One of the mobile devices hovered close to the door and shone its light on Lucinda when she came into the Union chamber bigger than life. All smiles, she played for the camera batting her big eyelashes and modeling her sharp figure.

  “Lucinda, you know your circus isn’t allowed in the Union chamber,” Iris said. Her old crackling voice filled with annoyance.

  Lucinda narrowed her eyes and glared at Hek’Dara and said in a snide voice, “The people demand to know what happened last night. They have a right to know that there may be a high-born conspiring against the order of things.”

  Hek’Dara shifted in his seat. He and Lucinda Xavier had never been friends, not even allies. Though sometime in the last two decades they have had mutual understandings. Brokered deals, relayed information back and forth to keep other families from doing either of them harm. They called it business, but Hek’Dara knew business dealings can go sour.

  “Not in the Union chamber,” Iris spoke up, her old voice firm. “They go, or all of you go.”

  Lucinda gave a deep giggle in the back of her throat. “Out,” she said looking into a camera.

  The telecom devices spun out of the room. A tall young steward closed the door from the outside.

  “Now take your seat,” Iris pointed at Lucinda’s chair with her bony finger.

  “Can we get on with it?” The deep bravado tone from Brandon Hyguard spoke up. The tall African’s face looked weighed down, his cheekbones narrow, and his large silver dollar eyes hardened. He clutched a gold ankh that hung on a long chain and stuck out from under the high-collar white dress s
hirt he wore. His family crest embroidered in black on his right breast stood out. The shield and spear a reminder of his rich ancestral heritage

  Havashaw Orlander leaned in on the table. “I second.”

  Hek’Dara didn’t look at Havashaw. With everyone in the room the Orlanders were the ones he didn’t want to offend. With the destruction of their breeding facility the forefront of everyone’s thoughts and Da’Mira as suspect, Hek’Dara didn’t want to add to her charges. If the news came to light she flew the ship into Dalnaspidal, the same facility destroyed, that could make things even more difficult for Hek’Dara’s family. The mere fact that the Tannadors held such a high status in the Nine gave them a slight advantage.

  “Why are we here?” Jackman Pike spoke up. The newest family leader and at twenty-three the youngest to sit on the Union committee stared down the long table at the rest of the members. Jackman inherited the seat from his departed father Dante, who at ninety-nine was the second oldest to hold a chair in the coalition of families. “So, some slaves stand with their fists in the air and you all panic. I for one see no harm in it. The moment we allow the low-born to see our fears then the rumors begin. No – we should just play it off. Slaves need us, they need to eat, and they need a place to sleep. What would they have without us?”

  “Freedom,” Carmela Anders said. “What a unique concept.”

  “Surely it’s a matter of replacing our slaves with new ones from the breeding facilities. To stop the insurgence,” Jackman said with confidence.

  Lucinda smirked and said with arrogance, “You are wet behind the ears, aren’t you? Everyone knows the family Everhart is in charge of slave distribution and they assign new slaves with a mountain of red tape. They only release a handful a year as it is.”

  Jackman’s brow tightened. “Then where do all the newborns go?” he asked. “Our breeding facilities must be full beyond capacity.”

  “Interesting isn’t it?” Lucinda asked. She pushed her glass of water away from her.