“Welcome, Colin McGregor, to the tribe of the free.”
Watchtower – High Earth Orbit
Home of the Family Lexor – Inside the Union Chambers
April 21, 2442
Tension in the room kept everyone quiet and Hek’Dara couldn’t believe the silence. Never had the members of the Union been so quiet and at odds with one another. The suspicious stares toward Hek’Dara and the Lady Anders weren’t surprising. His and Carmela’s conspiracy against their peers wouldn’t go without punishment. He prepared to fight whatever that punishment might be. His treason would tear apart the Union and without a doubt bring an end to the peace that lasted for three-hundred years.
Martin drew dubious looks as he stood behind Hek’Dara and Carmela. The section commander’s presence, although necessary, added to the already nervous tension in the chamber. His plasma rifle hung off his right shoulder and hummed its familiar radiated sound, ready to be used.
Hek’Dara enjoyed seeing the alarm in every one’s eyes. He knew which ones he intimidated with his bodyguard and which ones he did not. With a shrewd eye he read each of the lords and ladies, in hope he could rally some of them to him and Carmela. If enough people came in on their side perhaps an entanglement could be avoided. Strength in numbers… his father told him.
He reminded himself that absolute power corrupted, and while absolute power wasn’t within his reach, he refrained from wishing for any more of it and focused on what he commanded. His insurrection against the Union didn’t come as an easy choice. He hoped it wouldn’t be something he’d regret.
Hek’Dara weighed his options. Without a doubt, Brandon Hyguard would side with Havashaw Orlander, the two families were friends, thick as thieves, Hek’Dara’s father had said many times.
He eyed Jackman Pike, the youngest member of the group. He seemed the most liberal in his ideas. The recent slave disobedience didn’t concern him much. The young man even appeared to take the slaves side. Though not one of the strongest family’s, the Pikes had ties with less than admirable associates in the low-born community.
The low-born aware of the discontent in the upper-class would also take side, make wagers and before long the two opposing factions would clash.
Hek’Dara cleared his thoughts and refused to ponder possible outcomes. He thought of Da’Mira. How would she react of me taking her side for once?
An inner chamber door opened, and everyone turned toward the entrance. Hek’Dara had seen Iris Lexor come through it all his life, when Avery Lexor appeared in his mother’s place, his mouth went dry. With Iris dead, Hek’Dara wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.
Avery smiled wide, his perfect teeth glistened, and his yellow eyes became fixed on Hek’Dara. He looked at each member of the Union and without a salutation he sat in his mother’s chair at the head of the table.
Avery motioned toward the empty seats; he nodded his head at the family leaders and waited for them to sit. He snapped his fingers and pointed at an empty glass next to him. An aide ran to him and filled the glass with water.
Avery took a drink, placed his hands – palms down – on the table and after a few quiet moments, he said without remorse, “My mother died today. She died being in control. In the last months of her life that control slipped through her fingers. As her heir I assume control of the family Lexor, the Watchtower, and the ORACLE watcheyes.”
Disgusted gasps filled the chamber. Hek’Dara studied everyone’s expressions. By their revulsion it appeared they forgot about the conflict between the Tannadors and the Orlanders and focused on Avery. Estranged, Iris would have never allowed Avery to succeed her. But Hek’Dara couldn’t figure out who might have.
Avery cleared his throat and drew everyone quiet, their eyes on him he said, “My mother made mistakes over the years. And while I can’t change or undo what she had done, I can move forward. Everyone’s secrets are their own. We must strengthen the Union.”
“What are you saying, Lord Lexor?” Lucinda Xavier spoke up. She’d sat quiet ever since entering the chamber, her rich eyes like a serpent, narrowed. Her voice dark, uneven. She pursed her thin lips. Even her copper hair looked more abrasive.
“Like I said, Iris made mistakes. One of those mistakes was maneuvering each of us, including me and my sister around like pawns. She prepared to take control of all high-born operations. She’d been doing so for years. With the help of the Orlanders, she gained a strong foothold. The acquisition of the Tannador food operations was the next prize to be taken. The Orlanders, with my mother’s help built a strong military presence, going against everything the founding members of our society hoped to achieve.”
Havashaw leapt to his feet and pointed a finger towards Avery. His voice rancid, he shouted, “I will not sit here and be slandered like this!”
Hek’Dara roared with laughter, and with a jovial tone said, “So your armed security trying to take my operations by force was just a misunderstanding?” An undeniable thirst to see Havashaw on the floor in a pool of his own blood overwhelmed Hek’Dara. What is wrong with me? It was like some outside force was controlling his emotions, heightening his annoyance ten-fold.
Brandon Hyguard slammed his fist on the table, and exclaimed, “Even our society demands order! The Orlanders provide that.”
“We never needed it before. We governed ourselves,” Carmela Anders said shifting herself toward Hek’Dara. “For generations we have lived so, with order and decorum.”
Unsympathetic, Lucinda lashed out, “Look at all of you – the rich and the mighty. Each of you are wealthier than the family Xavier and you want more by deceit, treachery and death. It’s time we took a place of higher standing.”
Hek’Dara’s face burned with anger. He tightened his hands into fists, the uncontrollable rage returned – his only thought was to rip Lucinda’s throat out, but before he could leap over the table…
“Enough!” Avery stood, his face scarred crimson.
Hek’Dara’s rage subsided and he relaxed back in his chair. He eyed the others in the room to see if anyone noticed his sudden fits of anger, but no one payed him any attention. They were busy choosing sides – strengthening alliances. Everyone except Warner Cromwell, who just watched and studied. He’d never been this quiet in a heated debate.
Hek’Dara caught a look from the Everhart proxy who smiled at him and gave a salutatory nod. He returned the greeting to the timid red-haired girl, though it seemed odd that the proxy took time to single him out.
“Is this what we are now, squabbling children?” Lucinda said leaning on the table and drew Hek’Dara back to the debate.
“Everyone is to take a seat!” Avery yelled.
The aggression was thick in the air. The same overpowering sense of malevolence Hek’Dara detected on Durum Station now festered in the Union chamber. He still couldn’t pinpoint the source or the reason for the overwhelming anger inside him. He took a step back to clear his thoughts and noticed Carmela looking at him.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
He nodded and smiled at her, but the overzealousness consumed him. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes, if just to calm himself. Then he heard, “Gun!” Martin shouted and shoved Hek’Dara and Carmela behind him. Havashaw Orlander held a plasma pistol pointed toward Avery.
Hek’Dara caught the glimpse of the Everhart proxy running out of the chamber via a servant door at the back of the room.
“Stop!” Hek’Dara heard Avery yell, his voice deflated. He’d lost control of the meeting.
Havashaw fired his weapon, Hek’Dara and Carmela rushed for the chamber door while everyone else in the room dove for cover. Hek’Dara looked back but couldn’t tell if the shot hit anyone. Then he saw Havashaw turn the gun toward him.
Martin flung open the doors of the room. The Xavier telecom cameras that hovered outside in the antechamber whizzed in. Their light flashes went off taking pictures of the bedlam while the small devices spun around recording videos that broadcas
ted live to every video receptacle in the population platforms. They distracted Havashaw long enough for Hek’Dara and the others to make their escape.
Hek’Dara, Carmela, and Martin escaped through the antechamber and into the elevator. Carmela folded into Hek’Dara’s arms when the lift door slid closed. “Down to the docking ring Martin...”
“Yes Milord.”
“Are you all right?” Hek’Dara asked Carmela.
Carmela snuggled into his arms, “That was horrifying. What happened?”
Hek’Dara debated if he should ask, but he needed to know, and chose his words carefully, saying, “Did – did either of you feel a sense of dread… no, that’s not the word… a feeling of utter evil in the room?”
“Like on Durum station?” Martin asked.
“You experienced the same sensation there, too?”
Martin nodded yes and looked at the control panel on the elevator wall as the levels counted down.
“What’s going on?” Carmela asked when she moved away from Hek’Dara. “Even in the most heated debates none of the Nine acted as if they wanted to tear each other apart.”
Hek’Dara wished he had the right answer. “Something has changed – something I can’t explain. I’ve noticed it for weeks now, but it wasn’t until the last few days that I felt something, or someone affecting us. How we think, how we act – so much that it’s altering our state of mind to a degree we can’t keep control of emotions.” He noticed Carmela’s cautious look. She didn’t disbelieve him, but by her knitted brow, Hek’Dara wondered if she believed any of his incredible story.
“You’ve known about this for that long and you haven’t said a word?” Carmela asked.
“Who would I have told? Until now I didn’t believe it myself. If I tried to tell you some fantastic tale, that I believe something is altering my state of mental prowess you would have scoffed at me. I figured it would be a matter of time before it happened to someone else.”
“You took a risk Milord, what if you became incapacitated before telling anyone.”
“That, Martin was a chance I had to take.”
“Now that we know about it, how do we stop it?” Carmela asked.
“Stop what? Right now, we just have a theory and even that isn’t much to go on. For now, we draw our forces close and wait this out. Sooner or later whatever we experienced will show itself and all hell will break loose.”
When the lift door slid open, Martin raised his plasma rifle into the face of the red-headed Everhart proxy. She screamed, dropped a notepad and raised her hands.
“Please – please I have something for Lord Tannador from my mistress.” The girl reached into her pocket.
“If you produce a weapon I will kill you,” Martin said taking half a step toward the girl.
“I swear on Milady’s life, I will not pull a weapon.”
Martin took his half step back.
The red-haired girl took a hand-held data pad from her pocket and held it out. Martin took it from her hand. “It contains a message for you Milord,” she said.
“How do we know this isn’t an explosive device?” Martin asked.
Hek’Dara placed his hand on Martin’s right shoulder and took a step next to him, said, “We have to trust someone, sometime Martin.”
“Milady said you would say that,” the red-haired girl said.
“Hek’Dara, we have to go. Sooner or later the Orlanders will come for us,” Carmela said; her voice shook.
Hek’Dara stared at the red-haired girl for a time, studying her features, and said, “Yes, you’re right Carmela. I’m sorry my dear, but you’ll have to come with us.”
The red-haired girl nodded, and said eagerly, “Milady insisted I trust you.”
“Take her,” Hek’Dara told Martin.
The Tannador shuttle left the Watchtower unchallenged by anyone on the docking ring. What workers and security forces were present, hadn’t tried to stop them.
The sleek craft raced between the sensor arrays – a system of navigational beacons put in place to guide ships that ran on automatic pilot and worked with the Watchtower. Hek’Dara ordered the automated apparatus deactivated. He’d always considered the beacons a luxury and dismissed them because they made life easier.
Hek’Dara paced back and forth in the passenger area of the shuttle. He looked at the handheld palm device. In all his years he’d never had communication with Moyah Everhart. No one had. Now to be contacted out of the blue, more than puzzled him, it troubled him. The Everhart mansion, Evergarden, orbited Earth along the same rotation as Tannador House. Hek’Dara remembered watching the massive platform as a young boy from his bedroom window, his mind filled with many stories concerning the ominous space station. That Moyah Everhart was a witch and she ate anyone who went to her mansion. Even as an adult those tales gave Hek’Dara cold chills.
Few ships docked there. Pilots who traveled to Evergarden saw no one, just automated service drones that unloaded the cargo, without a word. Why me, why now? Hek’Dara couldn’t understand what Moyah Everhart wanted with him.
“Aren’t you going to see what’s on the palm pad?” Carmela asked.
“I suppose you’re right,” Hek’Dara replied and pressed his thumb on the activation button.
The screen flashed alive. A moment later a Z symbol appeared, and the following words scrolled across the screen: Go to Ioshia Station and seek a man named Oliver Duncan. I know you have no reason to trust me. But it would be in your best interest to find him. He has something I think you’ll need.
The screen faded black, but not before three more words scrolled across it: Trust no one.
Cryptic and foreboding all those childhood stories of Evergarden played over again in Hek’Dara’s mind. What does the witch of Evergarden want me to do?
“What is it?” Carmela asked.
Trust no one…
“It was a message from Moyah Everhart,” he said with a dry mouth.
Carmela sat on a chair, her skin faded white, and she asked, “What did it say?”
Trust no one…
Gnashing his teeth Hek’Dara said, “It asked me to see to the protection of her proxy.”
“Her proxy…”
“Yes – she was afraid something might happen in the Union chamber, and she just wanted to make sure her proxy was all right.”
Hek’Dara could tell by Carmela’s expression that she didn’t believe a word he told her. But until he knew what Moyah Everhart wanted of him, he would do as she instructed and trust no one. I just wonder if that includes, Moyah Everhart.
North America Wasteland
The Tribe of the Free
April 22, 2442
Colin McGregor stumbled on the loose unsteady rock under his feet. With his eyes still bandaged he relied on a steady hand from Avara Rodan to guide him toward the shuttle that, a day before, crashed in the North American wasteland. If it wasn’t for Avara’s father, Norvene, he might have died.
Colin’s memory was foggy. The last thing Colin recalled after watching Avery Lexor blast away from the doomed shuttle in an escape pod was the Earth racing up to meet him. Even now, safe and alive, uncertainty eclipsed him. In the final moments before the crash his thoughts weren’t of his impending death, but of his sister who he failed to find. Colin placed too much faith in Avery Lexor. For that faith his sister would pay the price. He stumbled –
“Be careful,” Avara said tightening her grip on Colin’s arm.
“Thanks. Are you sure I have to keep my eyes bandaged?”
“Are they still hurting?”
“Aye. But, I don’t think I need them.”
“I’ll be the one to determine that.”
Again, Colin found his footing with Avara’s help. He allowed her pleasant voice to lead him. Colin realized Avara might look like a crow with a long beak nose and warts on her chin. He chuckled to himself. Whatever the case, he appreciated her help. It’d been a long time since he trusted a stranger or given them the benefit
of doubt.
If he hoped to recover his generational sword he needed to put his trust in Avara and her father.
“Not much further. “We will find the ship over the next rise,” Norvene said, far ahead of Colin and Avara.
“Do you want to sit and rest?” Avara asked.
“I’m not a weak child,” Colin snapped.
“I never said you were,” Avara snapped back. “And I wasn’t talking to you. My father is old, though he might not sound it.”
“My apologies,” Colin said.
Avara laughed. Her grip tightened on Colin’s arm and she said, “Least you’re strong willed, Colin McGregor.”
Some people called Colin stubborn, obnoxious and an arrogant ass, but few called him strong willed, at least not in any positive way. Shane would often remind him he had an unlikeable demeanor that few understood. But Shane understood it, and accepted Colin with all his misgivings. There was no loyal friend like Shane anywhere. Colin had to live with the idea that his loyalty got Shane killed.
“You all right?”
Colin coughed. “Just lost in my thoughts.”
“Something tells me they aren’t jubilant ones,” Avara said.
“No… they aren’t.”
Avara gasped, said, “There’s the shuttle. I’m amazed you survived.”
Colin’s imagination filled in what the doomed vessel looked like and he rushed ahead of Avara to get to the ship. Avara quickened her pace to keep a hold of his arm.
“Not so fast, there’s lots of debris down here.”
“Is the ship intact?” Colin asked. He slowed, tripping over something.
“A lot of it is just a scattered mess. But there is a large part of the vessel intact.”
“Take me to it,” Colin said.
“There’s still fires burning – watch your step!” Norvene called out.
Smoke stung Colin’s nose when he entered the debris field. Heat from the fires warmed his skin. He stopped in his tracks.
Origin Expedition Page 24