13 Degrees of Separation

by Hechtl, Chris

  “Pirates,” he murmured. He was in the heart of a den of thieves, murders, and genocidal fanatics.

  His journey of discovery was interrupted by his assistant, who was upset when she noted what he was viewing over his shoulder. She shut it off and helpfully redirected his efforts to more constructive lines. He allowed her to lead him as his mind wondered how much of her was his assistant, and how much was his jailer?

  They'd catered to his vice for women he realized. His wife was jealous of her... his wife. He sat still, stricken by the very thought, mind trying to shy away from it, but unable to do so. Goddess of space could she be involved? Was she? His heart twisted as his mind came up with those questions and more. He was a scientist, it was in his nature to get answers. He thought about the situation and didn't like what he saw.

  They had certainly been careful when they had constructed his prison, he was a caged bird and up until now he'd not even known it. But now he did, he thought, though he wasn't at all sure what he would do about it. He ached to talk to his wife about it, she made things make sense to him. Her thoughtful look, her quick wit... she had a way of distracting him... that thought he abruptly cut off with pain. He didn't want to go there, he was too afraid of where it would lead.

  <|> <|> <|>

  Later he passed the assistant's door and overheard her reporting his hacking to the authorities. That bothered him, he became pensive and troubled, now concerned for any retribution to his naive search for the truth.

  On his way home he noticed he was being followed, and became afraid. Never had he thought of crime, but now it wasn't crime that made him fear but the authorities that were supposed to protect people like him from the criminals. Finding out that the authorities were even more of a menace to civilization... he tucked his hands in his pockets and hunched over, fighting an urge to run as he walked home.

  At home he mumbled something to his wife as she bandaged him and berated him for intervening. When she stung his pride to the quick his angry eyes locked onto hers. “I still don't understand why they turned on that chimp. And what is this about aliens? I don't understand!” he said, throwing his hands up in the air. “It doesn't make any sense!”

  “Leo, it was an isolated incident, not a great conspiracy. You are seeing things that aren't there. Relax!” she told him, blowing his concern off as she put the first aid kit away.

  “Yeah, maybe you're right,” he mumbled.

  “Why don't you go work on something to take your mind off this,” she said, pushing him to the door. “I'll call when dinner is ready,” she said, smacking him on the rear.

  He nodded, distracted. Troubled he went to his workshop and pretended to work as she went to start dinner.

  His sons returned from school and for the first time he was troubled by them, by what they were learning, by what they were becoming. He knew that men were shaped by their environment, by all they saw and did. Their parents and their views were but one part of their education. He listened to them talk about their day, his eldest Marcus had scored several goals. But his mind ticked over to the dinner conversation of the night before and compared it. The things his children said were almost word for word the same he realized. His wretched edict memory brought up other conversations with his children. They had been vague about their studies, vague about the events around them. That troubled him.

  <|> <|> <|>

  A few days later he used his military passwords to hack the intelligence database and discovered the pirate war with the New Federation forming in Pyrax. Apparently the Horathians had shifted from raiding to taking and occupying other worlds some time ago. They were expanding beyond the local colonies, now seizing systems that held strategic importance. One such was Pyrax.

  Apparently that had been thwarted however, broken by the most unlikely of returning heroes, Admiral John Henry Irons, returned from the dead. Irons had recovered a group of warships and turned them against the pirates. There was a bit about how Irons had turned the entire system into a black hole for Horath. Good, he thought. His lips twisted in a rare smile. Irons would be hell to the Horathians. From the look of the report's time stamp they had just gotten word of this six months ago. An amendment report stated that an intelligence bureau chief on Konohagakure had received a copy of the report months before and had dispatched an intelligence team to investigate the situation, do some sabotage, attempt to assassinate the admiral if they could, then get out and meet up with the 'Prinz Zir'.

  That name struck a nerve with Leo. He closed his eyes briefly as more pieces fell into place. Then he opened them to look on to the image of the Admiral, still there on his tablet screen.

  Admiral Irons had been something of an idol to Leo when he had been growing up. He even had a tattered poster of the engineering admiral, or had. He'd left it behind in his room in the family home. His home... he looked. Yes indeed, Antigua was next on the list for conquest. That frightened him, in order to do it they would... they would devastate his world to get through her defenses. Defenses he had helped rebuild and bring online, defense plans he had also shared with his wife and with his 'assistant'. He felt intense bitterness and guilt over his role in what was to come. What bothered him the most was that there was seemingly nothing he could do to prevent any of it from happening. The fleet had been dispatched two weeks ago. His tools, his ideas, his efforts would be turned on his homeworld.

  He was immediately dismayed and appalled by the thought. Would they... Spirit of Space, what would they do with the nonhuman people? That thought made him shiver. He viewed recent recordings of the "Emperor" and became sickened. The Emperor was done with the slow build up. Leo's efforts and some recent events had pushed Horath's plan of conquest into overdrive. They planned to conquer and 'cleanse' all the worlds that remained. His stomach was nauseated, he felt like a cold lump was there, just weighing him down.

  He decided to look his own situation up, but he mistyped Mr. and hit Mrs. and got his wife's file. His sickened eyes teared as he looked at her unsmiling photo at the top of the bio. She was an officer in Horathian secret intelligence, she has been rewarded for her recruitment of him. Of him, as if he was something... he stopped that thought as his hand shook and tore at his hair in frustration and rage. His children were on file as potential officers in intelligence, having participated with his wife in deceiving him.

  Anguished he called up his own file and read it quickly. Grimly he noted the links to various things including the network of cameras watching his every move. They even had his terminals bugged but over the years had become slack in monitoring them. At least until now, when he had naively woken to their deception.

  <|> <|> <|>

  Later that day he stumbled home in a mental fugue. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, feeling the back of his neck itch as if he had eyes on him. Two "helpful" police officers escorted him to his home when he passed them. For the first time in a long time he took notice of how others dressed. Both men were big, dressed in black. They wore black visored caps. His educated mind turned to his memory of his historical studies. They reminded him greatly of the German Nazi police.

  Fortunately both stopped and tipped their hats. He didn't look at their cold eyes though, just mumbled a thanks and made his way up the walk to his home.

  Disturbed he passed his wife without so much as a kiss and went directly to his workshop and reviewed his work with a now dispassionate eye, realizing it had all had been used for war. His efforts had unlocked a lot of the suppressed tech he thought bitterly, he'd been steered to find ways around the lock outs, ways to manufacture the equipment and weapons with minimal input from a replicator. That explained the industrial age the planet had entered he thought bitterly. It was allowing them to build their own ships, ships that would be used to kill thousands, possibly millions. Genocide on a galactic scale, finishing what the Xeno's started seven centuries ago. He felt sick again. Sick to his stomach and unsure what to do.

  He went to bed that night late, he felt his wife sp
oon against him and he let himself drift or at least tried to. Her presence and familiar scent was usually all the tonic he needed to relax and unwind but no longer. Now her traitorous presence was like a goad, making his mind turn down other paths. Thoughts of what they could do to him to force his cooperation... he stiffened in fright, then forced himself to relax. He remained awake all night and when dawn broke he had a plan.

  One of the first things he did was write a program to overlay his image in the surveillance network with images from the years of files. He rarely ever deviated from his established schedule, so it would hopefully keep the casual observer from noting his change in demeanor and work. He did the same to the bots monitoring him on his home computer, then sat back and thought hard.

  Marcus came home and had an argument with his wife. Frowning, she stormed to his office door and closed it. Leo flipped to the camera feed and watched her go back to their son and then chew him out. There was no audio, but he could read lips when they were turned to the right angle. From what he deduced his son had realized he was acting differently and was now realizing what was going on. His wife agreed, but made a point of telling their son to not aggravate the situation. “That is why we need to keep up a good image at home. We need to protect your father from himself,” Leo echoed. He shook his head. Did she really love him? Was she protecting him? Or her and the children? He didn't know anymore.

  He made an agonizing decision, he wrote a subtle sabotage of his own work, as well as a series of viruses. He destroyed all his hard copy backups and then replaced them with his virus infested versions. His wife entered and hugged him from behind, forcing him to pause and cover his tracks. They kissed and he forced himself to act nonchalantly, like nothing was wrong. At dinner he carefully viewed his family, and listened as they described their daily school activities. He caught the occasional snuck glance from Marcus to him or to the others. What he heard in the subtext he didn't like.

  <|> <|> <|>

  He hatched a plan to escape the next morning, and over three days prepared. It was three agonizing days of waiting for the ax to drop, trying to act normal. He knew his chances of getting off the planet were small, but he had to do something. His viruses embed themselves in the mainframes of the Horathian empire, as did his other works of sabotage. His 'assistant' became more strident and demanding that he finish his current project, and he grimly ignored it.

  “The last time I checked, you were my assistant, not the other way around,” he rounded on her. “I'm free to work on whatever I want, whenever I choose. I am... thinking about how to improve the computer system and network and I'll be focused on that for a while.”

  “But that's not what we need!” she said in exasperation. “The computers are fine! We need you to focus on the force emitters!”

  “I'm focusing on what I want for now, and letting that issue percolate for a while. Sometimes I do that when I run into an issue with the math or the engineering of a project, especially of something of this importance. We need to get it right correct?” he asked. She nodded. “Very well then. Go work on the research of emitters for me, specifically their history. Look into the database for the various engineering and see if you can come up with any diagrams from each evolution.”

  She frowned, jotting down what he said. He knew that would keep her busy for some time. She nodded grudgingly and then retreated before he assigned her any more make work.

  <|> <|> <|>

  The next evening he unleashed his plan. Staying up late, he spoofed the hidden cameras in the house he had discovered and set off his virus. Then he stuffed his pockets with currency, fake ID's and a prototype Gauss pistol he had made six years ago. He went to bed with the jacket nearby. The first virus exploded a breaker down the street an hour later, awakening the neighborhood and forcing an evacuation when sparks ignited trees nearby. Soon that entire end of the block was an inferno as homes and tinder dry plants caught fire.

  His wife rose to stare out their bedroom window at the flames. He rose with her. She put her robe on and then rushed to the boys room. In the confusion he made his escape, but he was followed by his eldest son Marcus.

  “You did this didn't you?” Marcus accused him when they were out of the street lights and across the field. People were milling about in groups, the police had yet to get organized, but he knew they were working on it.

  “Did I?” Leo asked.

  “You did. Damn you! That's why you're running!” Marcus said, trying to catch up.

  “Come with me son,” Leo said.

  Marcus shook his head grimly. He had to stay on his father's heels, if he didn't he'd lose him. “Do you know how much I've hated you? Ever since I was old enough to realize it. To hear about how clueless you were. A national treasure,” he scoffed, shaking his head in scorn. “My dad! And they expected me and Daren to be the same way, but we're not. We're too much like mom apparently, that's why they gave up on trying to turn us into perfect little copies of you.”

  Leo frowned. “An idiot savant, brain dead about the world around him, kept ignorant. So tell me, what finally woke you to the obvious father? That chimp?” his son demanded.

  “I had Neo and alien friends. Did you think I'd stand by and let a mob beat one to death before me?” Leo asked softly.

  “We had to keep you ignorant, mom said it was for your own protection. Do you have any idea what it was like being threatened by your own mother? How she even threatened to kill me when I was six? How I had to go to mandatory secret police training? How I couldn't have any friends over for fear of breaching the secret and removing the veil. How I had been teased about my father's ignorance?? When someone found out it was ugly! Two of my friends and one of Daren's had been punished for threatening to give away the spy game, and now they hated and feared them now.” Marcus shook his head in rage. “How much they hate me at school!”

  “I'm sorry son, sorry you had to go through that. We should have brought you up on Antigua. It would have been different.”

  “Antigua! That mudball? We're going to plow it into the ground 'Dad'!” his son sneered.

  He closed his eyes, thinking that information over, trying to wrap his brain around the hatred in that voice. “Son, Marcus, I know your life has been hard. I can't change that. I didn't do it, you know that. Not on purpose. I'm asking you to come with me!”

  “No! If I let you go... they'll do things to me! To Daren! To mom! Turn around or I'll make you!” Marcus snarled, finally catching up to him. “You traitor!” Marcus snarled, grabbing his shoulder.

  Leo turned to see the knife in his son's hands. He shook his head, trying to back away but he stumbled. “I know, I'll be free of you, we'll all be free of you! I'll say a mugger did it!” Marcus said, waving the blade before him. “Then we'll be able to do what we want!”

  “No Marcus!” The boy lunged to stab him and Leo stuffed his hand in his pocket while he tried to roll. The knife hit him in the shoulder and he bellowed in pain and anger. He had done it! His son... Marcus had a rictus of hate on his face, eyes demented.

  Leo turned, wrestling with the boy but feeling his life blood spilling and soaking into his shirt and coat. The pistol came out on its own and he pulled the trigger. His son bucked as the small nail rounds tore into his abdomen at point blank range. He killed the boy in self defense, not that self hatred didn't tear at him anyway. He teared up, crying as he pushed the dying boy off him. His son gasped, eyes wide with shock. A moment later he laid still. Anguished Leo ran into the night, hiding from the intelligence officers he knew would be coming after him.

  <|> <|> <|>

  He was finally cornered in the spaceport warehouse, where his wife went in to secure him. Anguished he confronted her from afar, flinging his accusations at her. “Was any of her love real?” his echoing voice demanded. She bit her lip, not sure herself. She tried to bluff it out, tried to get him to surrender and talk it out. “Right, and that's why you came in here wearing body armor and carrying a pistol Major?” he demande
d.

  “So you know about that?” she asked.

  “I know it all now! The shades are gone! I'm no longer the ignorant love struck fool!” He snarled.

  “Then you leave me no other choice Leo. I'm sorry,” she said. She changed to full officer mode, and came after him. In the struggle he was shot, as was she. As she laid there dying he stroked her blond hair, one hand on his wound knowing it was mortal.

  He could hear footfalls of the boots of troops coming in to their location. “Was any of it real?” he asked softly. Her eyes were glassy though, she was dead. He groaned as he turned, pulling his tablet out he sent one last order through to the network.

  He smiled bitterly. “Take that you bastards,” he whispered, his final reserve of strength fading as his heart slowed. The tablet slipped from his nerveless fingers. He didn't need it any more, it was done, he was done. He felt bad for Daren, but there was nothing he could do for the boy now.

  His final act of spite launched itself outward, ripping into the power grid, tearing at the software controls to the fusion reactors he had meticulously built. He smiled weakly at his so called assistant as the woman came into his field of vision. He laughed softly for but a moment before the continental reactor scrammed itself and the lights flickered and died with him. Slowly his last breath leaked out of his body. He felt numb, relief that it was done.

  “What did you do?!?” his assistant howled, jerking his corpse up by the shoulders in a futile attempt to get answers. Only an enigmatic smile answered her. A death head's grin and a cooling body. Angrily she tossed the body down.

  <|> <|> <|>

  “So it's confirmed?” Newly crowned Emperor Ramichov asked. He was clearly unhappy with the turn of events, it marred his carefully planned rise to power. It was a blemish he couldn't tolerate, Horathian intelligence was usually so careful about such things.