by Damon Alan
The human condition seemed somehow as if it tainted the building he leaned on.
The meeting place was built into a mountainside many hours of walking from Zeffult, and from this distance the city shimmered with the heat of day. Compared to most places, it seemed a jewel that rested on the edge of the Great Sea, a monument to the power of the nation of Zeffult.
If only that were true. Up close the city was a cesspool of corrupt humanity, with dirt in every corner and in the depths of many souls who lived there. Dark alleys meandered through the town, arteries that spread corruption through the neighborhoods. There were places inside the town walls where bodies were sold, treachery thrived, and the poor struggled to live just one more day while the rich drowned in wealth one borough away.
Eislen had spent the last two years studying the capital when he wasn’t being trained by Alarin. He wasn’t sure it could be redeemed. Or if it was worth the struggle to try.
His head hung low and he kicked at the base of the pillar with his heel. A hand on his shoulder jolted him from his unhappy thoughts.
A stunning young woman smiled at him as she reached up to caress his face.
Eislen embraced Salla, who he knew from Kampana. She and her family were trading out of town when the village was destroyed. Besides Eislen, they were the only known survivors of the massacre.
He’d found her several months ago on the road when he’d worked as adept support on a military supply run to a fort on the eastern coast.
Their reunion then had been a tearful realization that not everyone from their childhood together had been erased.
She was traveling to Zeffult as a refugee with her family, hoping to find trade goods and work.
Eislen and Salla were going in opposite directions on the road, so he’d given her enough money to get a place, told her where he’d look for her when he returned to the city, and embraced her as they parted.
When he’d returned, he’d found her waiting at the appointed time and day on the western edge of the Motonos Market Square. Their second reunion was as exhilarating as their first. They’d been growing closer since that day, and romance was blossoming. It was natural, nobody in the world knew either as well as they knew each other.
Today held something other than romance. It held making the world right.
With sad eyes, Salla spoke. “I can see from your mood that they’re not going to listen?”
“No. Ungifted weren’t even allowed to talk. I wasn’t either, although I’m not ungifted. I was told to sit down and shut my mouth. Labeled an outcast by everyone but Alarin and Sarah Dayson.”
Salla’s eyes narrowed, Eislen was surprised by the amount of anger on her face. Her voice carried venom. “But you’re not outcast, Eislen. You’re the First Adept’s acolyte. And you’re a hero to many people.”
Taking Salla’s hand, Eislen scowled.“Call him Alarin Sur’batti. He’s not our master any longer.” Together they walked down the steps of the Great Hall to a small plateau carved onto the mountain. Merchants sold food for the conference attendees, and adept carriages sat parked in rows to take the adepts to and from Zeffult.
Salla spat on the ground. “They live well while the people suffer.”
“I know,” was all Eislen replied.
Tugging his arm, Salla led Eislen toward the road to the city.
Eislen followed her lead. “I told Alarin a few days ago that I was leaving his training. He acted sad, but it frees him of his promise to train me. He’s busy, and I was a drain on his time.”
She tightened her grip on his hand. “He seems sincere compared to the other adepts. Most have been vermin their entire lives, they know nothing else.”
They slid into the shadows under some dabnus trees. Long slim needles coated the road cobbles with slickness, slowing their steps.
“He’s a good man. But I don’t fit in his world. The other adepts refer to me as ‘Alarin’s bastard’ or ‘Alarin’s pet’. I’m a man, I won’t have that.”
“Of course you are.” Salla insisted and moved closer to him. “The gods have chosen you Eislen. They wanted you to see everything you’ve seen, so you’d have the knowledge to make wise choices. They’ve given you the gift so you would be heard. Who else could speak for the rest of us?”
“I don’t know what the gods want. I just know what’s right. It was the gods, after all, that let Merik do that.” Eislen gestured toward Jalai. Angry oranges and yellows still swirled on her surface as the goddess recovered from Merik’s blow. “If the gods cared enough about us to choose me for anything, they should have stopped that.”
“I don’t know.” Salla smiled at Eislen. “Merik was evil. She’s the reason we’re where we are. The gods aren’t perfect. They fight evil just as we do.”
He thought about her words. He’d always like Salla for her intelligence, even if she hadn’t been the prettiest girl in the village. “You speak truth. Things always seem to work out.”
They walked together in silence for a while, savoring the mountain air. Later, on the plains approaching the city, they discussed the things that men and women discuss during the dance of mating. Finally, tired and dusty, they entered the gates of Zeffult.
Reminded of their concerns by the throngs of people around them, their conversation returned to matters more pressing.
Eislen bought two apples from a merchant cart and handed one to Salla. “Here’s what I do know, Salla. Things haven’t changed, we just have a new set of people at the top. People like us still aren’t getting anywhere, and our children are still ripped from us and given to the adepts if they’re born with the gift. We’re still going to work hard, have the fruits of our labors stolen, and die nameless and unmourned by any but our own. As Miker did. He deserved better.”
“You have considered Elvanik’s words? The ones I told you?”
“I have. They ring of truth.”
Salla stopped walking and pulled Eislen’s arm so he faced her. She stared into his eyes. “Then the plan is on? You’re with us?”
The excitement of her gaze pleased him. She wanted him with her. “I will help you as I can. Let Elvanik know. We’ll need his friends to do what has to be done.” Eislen placed the palm of his open hand on Salla’s chest just above her breasts and felt her racing heart. “You and I can’t change anything alone. But with the people… the people are beyond count and can change anything and everything.”
Salla stepped closer and wrapped him in her arms. “You have the vision and have seen the truth, Eislen. You’re gifted. People will know what you’ve given up to serve them. They’ll respect that and follow you.”
Salla’s hair blew across Eislen’s face. Her scent was intoxicating. She was all he had in the world that mattered, and he would change how the world worked to keep her safe.
He grasped her shoulders, then pulled her closer answering her embrace. “I hope so. Have Elvanik meet me inside the north gate shortly before the start of longnight. We’ll do what needs to be done.”
* * *
Dressed as a poor man, Eislen watched people as he waited at the city gate. Some were in carts, some on horses, some walking. He counted the smiles as the people passed, looking to see how many were carefree or happy.
That number was far too small. In the villages there was happiness when the adepts or soldiers weren’t around, but when business or duty brought uniformed men there was seldom joy. It shouldn’t be that way. People should be as joyous with their leaders as they are with friends.
Leaders should care.
Three young men walked up to Eislen as he sat on a bench next to a horse trough.
“You Eislen?” one asked.
He didn’t answer at first, but led them a short distance into an adjacent alley. “Yes. I assume you’re Elvanik?”
The man snorted a laugh and extended his hand. A friendly smile lay easily on his face. “Salla said you were smart.”
Eislen clasped the man’s arm and drew him close in greeting. “She hasn�
��t been close to me long enough to see through to the truth of it yet.”
All four laughed, then Elvanik spoke in a more serious tone. “This is a big thing we do.” He waved toward his companions. “These men are Greldin and Bogner, both of Selmanni.”
Eislen made a point of looking each man in the eye and nodding as they were introduced before he spoke again. “You’re right, Elvanik. This is a big thing we do. Are you three not the men for it?”
Greldin stepped toward Eislen with threat, his face abruptly edged with anger, but Elvanik pushed him back.
The large man yielded to Elvanik’s words. “He meant nothing by it. You’re not just a thug anymore, you’re going to be tested. He is gifted, and may choose us for his cause. He has a right to know we’re committed. Use your head, oaf.”
A few moments of tension hung over the group as Elvanik stared at Greldin to drive the point home.
Finally he turned his attention back to Eislen. “The real question, brother Eislen, is if you’re the man for it. Because you’re the face that people are going to see. You’ve been on the inside with both the adepts and the newcomers if Salla’s words are true.”
“Salla said them, so they’re true.”
Elvanik looked Eislen over. “My father waited his entire life to meet an adept who really cared for the people as the gods demand.”
“I’m not an adept. I have the gift, but I’m not one of them.”
“You’re gifted. You’re an adept. Just because you don’t like the word doesn’t mean you don’t have to wear it.”
Eislen didn’t like that response, but he felt the underlying truth of it. If Elvanik was the sort of man who spoke unwanted truth when needed, then maybe he was the man Sulla promised him to be. “If I’m to lead an insurrection, you’ll learn to answer my questions. I asked you if you’re the men for it.”
Elvanik glanced at Greldin and smirked. “We are. We’re the ones taking the risk trusting you. Don’t fail us.”
Smiling and nodding in agreement, Eislen offered what he could. “I can’t promise I won’t fail, but it won’t be because I don’t believe in what we both want.”
“It’s what the gods want that matters,” Greldin growled.
Unblinking, Eislen stared into the larger man’s eyes. “What I offer is service to the people as the priests demand. There are no guarantees. If we do fail, we’ll all meet Tsungte with our heads high. I no longer fear ending as a burning soul.”
Elvanik’s expression said that was the right answer. Some of the fire left Greldin’s eyes, and the edge of his lips betrayed a modicum of approval.
Greldin handed a wrapped package to Elvanik, who in turn handed it to Eislen. “Here is a start. This is hard to come by, and the first one made in Selmanni. But if you’re going to lead, you should have it. It will pierce the armor of the adept soldiers as if cutting goat butter.”
“What is it?”
“A knife. Made from the i-run the outsiders bring. A few tools intended for planting have come to the villages, but we’ve figured out how to make those tools into other things.”
Eislen unwrapped the package. The blade lay inside, glinting in the dying sunlight as he uncovered it. It was crude, but sharp enough. A hand and a half long, it would certainly suffice as a weapon. Eislen re-wrapped it and tucked it into his shirt. “This is priceless. Thank you. But we won’t need this type of thing tonight, my gift will be enough. Killing will only be done if it’s needed. Particularly of the newcomers.”
“As you say, Eislen. But it will be needed,” Elvanik said darkly.
Eislen looked at the man a moment. He hoped the twisting uncertainty in his guts wasn’t written on his face. “Not tonight. I demand no harm come to Sarah Dayson’s people. Let’s go. It’ll be dark when we get where we’re going.”
The four men walked deeper into the alley and vanished.
Chapter 5 - Gaia
18 MAI 15329
Peter Corriea was tethered to the command console of the Hinden, in command during the B shift. It was boring duty, but that was okay because life had taught him the value of boredom.
The bridge wasn’t as advanced as the bridge of the Michael Stennis, but it had the advantage of being functional. The Stennis sat idle in a makeshift drydock created from a hollowed out asteroid, waiting to be scavenged for useful parts. The incident at Fandama was too violent, too many systems were damaged or destroyed for the venerable vessel to ever serve as a starship again. Replacement parts were hard to come by twenty thousand light-years from the nearest factory
Peter found it hard to get too emotional about it at the moment. A ship was just a thing, the loss of life fighting Merik had been too high, and extremely hard on the marines of the fleet. The individual marines recovered, but nobody had arisen to lead them in the way Commander Gilbert did.
That, however, was the past. Peter’s mind currently had more important things to consider.
Love.
He waited patiently for Ensign Dantora to be patched through to his personal comms.
“Peter?”
The voice coming from his earbud made him perspire slightly, and he wrung his hands together to try and erase the clamminess. It didn’t work.
“Eris!” Peter said excitedly. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“It won’t be long now,” she answered, excitement in her voice. “The Gaia is secure in orbit around Halvi and my team and I are finishing up our first quick survey of what we’ve found. I should be relieved for leave, soon.”
“Really? We’ve gone with the name Gaia?” Peter asked. Ensign Eris Dantora and he had talked daily since she’d taken an expedition to recover the colony ship. When the colony ship was distant, their exchanges were often only a few sentences due to light speed delay. But the ancient vessel had been in orbit over Halvi for months now as scientists and engineers of the Seventh Fleet probed it for the ancient secrets it contained.
“We didn’t go with anything. That’s the original name.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t change it,” Peter countered. He brought up the schematics of the Gaia on the screens of the Hinden. The colony ship was huge. Eleven kilometers end to end, it was the largest ship he’d ever seen, even if the structure was mostly fuel tanks.
“It’s the name in the ship’s registry. The onboard AIs speak an old language called Danish. Apparently an insular people who felt no need to be part of the greater human community back during the First Diaspora. They wanted to be alone above all else. The original settlers were so xenophobic and paranoid they didn’t even build a fueler to carry their antimatter. They made the Gaia an all-in-one vessel,” Eris said.
“Dangerous, but maybe it was a financial decision,” Peter offered.
“No, you’d know if you were here. This ship was more expensive to build than a proper fleet. The ship might be old, but it’s quality. Almost everything still works after millennia in space. What’s weird is that as much as they hated outsiders, they were very close with each other. The ship is set up so the community had no choice but to be in proximity to each other. Those that weren’t frozen, anyway.”
“People do crazy things.” What did she mean frozen? Were there signs of casualties on board? “Frozen? There are bodies on board, Eris?”
Eris laughed. “No, no, but thousands of cryogenic chambers,” she said, then continued after a short pause. “This ship is a museum piece. It has cryogenic suspension capsules, and, on top of that, it’s a functional embryo ship. Nobody’s made one of these in… well, practically forever.”
“Embryo ship? You mean they grew babies when they got here?”
“Exactly. There is equipment in the medical labs to do just that. And it’s functional.”
“And most of the born crew traveled frozen?”
“You’ve got it. That’s why I’m falling for you mister. Your brain.”
“Wow. Sleeping for centuries, waking up long after everyone else you knew was dead…” Peter thought about that. Centu
ries of alive, then a frozen mini-death until it was again that person’s turn to stand as crew. “Sounds barbaric.”
“Don’t be dramatic. At the time it was the only way to spread to the stars. The ship carried humans, but also the embryos of thousands of species. If not for this method to colonize different worlds, we’d have left the Sol system thousands of years after we did.”
“Is the ship empty now?” Peter asked.
“Oh no. That’s just it. The locals took what they thought they’d need for this moon, then they abandoned the ship. The ship is full of equipment, millions of still frozen zygotes, and multiple kinds of fuel. If the Stennis still had an FTL drive, we could refuel him completely with the antimatter on this ship.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Peter tried to keep his voice happy. “The Stennis is drydocked for salvage. The Hinden is the flagship now.”
Eris’s voice sounded more empathetic. “I know, Peter, I’m sorry. But this ship will help the Seventh Fleet survive, even if the tech is old. The cargo bays on board aren’t empty. It’s still a functional colonization vessel.”
“I hope so. The Stennis being down makes me uncomfortable. I think it really annoys Captain Dayson. She spends most of her time in Jerna City now. Running the colony, I guess.
“How’s she keeping tabs on the fleet?”
“Captain Malveaux does most of that. But defers to her if the issue is important.”
“What happened to the Schein?” Eris asked. “Mothballed too?”
“A much better armored ship than the Stennis. Moderate damage, but nothing that would take her out of service right away. She’s on a patrol at the moment. Probably get a turn in drydock once we get a real one built.”
Deck Sergeant Sandin Avella, Hinden’s comm specialist, leaned in toward Peter. “Incoming from Refuge. Captain Dayson.”
“I have to go, Eris, Captain Dayson is calling in. I rotate to the ground in two months. You want me to ask her if you can have some time off then?” Peter asked.