From the Ashes (Conquest Book 1)

by Jeff Taylor

  A soft bead of water fell from her eyes. She had not felt the tears forming nor paid them any heed when they came, but she could do nothing to stop them. The wrenching pain in her heart drowned all other sensations. The man truly was delusional. Her love for him had made her blind to that. Somewhere inside him was the man she once loved, maybe someday it would resurface, but for now he left her no choice. Gingerly, she raised her hand and caressed his stubbled cheek. Her other hand encapsulated the back of his head as she leaned up and kissed him tenderly on the lips.

  “Good-bye, Tyrus,” she whispered. She then turned toward the door.

  Regina Dumaré, in every way her rival, barred her path.

  “Please move, Regina,” Eve asked somberly, not taking her eyes off the concrete roof.

  “Gladly,” Regina smirked. The sultry Frenchwoman stepped to one side, her equally high-heels clicking on the pavement as she moved. Eve strode past her when Regina whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of him.”

  In a flash, the woman was on the ground, pinned atop her awkwardly folded legs, Eve’s heel to her throat. A small amount of pressure and Eve would crush her larynx.

  “Stop!” bellowed Nelsonn.

  “Why?!” shouted Eve, surprising even herself with the intensity in her voice. “Why should I let this witch who has done nothing but scheme behind my back, lied to me, and turned my husband away from me, take another breath?” Regina gurgled beneath her foot, clawing at her legs trying to free herself.

  Nelsonn said nothing, only stepping closer to his enraged wife.

  “I’ll tell you why,” Eve said, fiercely. With an unexpected swiftness, she reached down and pulled Regina to her feet by her dark hair. Her hand struck the woman in the small of her back and pushed her forward, into Nelsonn’s arms. “Because I will never kill anyone again. Not for you, not for myself, not for anyone.”

  In disgust, she spat in Nelsonn’s direction then spun around. Her pale, quaking hand, gripped the door handle when a solemn Nelsonn spoke.

  “Would you do it for five hundred million Euros?”

  Eve inhaled sharply. Her head screamed for her to leave, to turn the knob, but her body refused to move. She was frozen in place. She could not speak. Five hundred million Euros. That was what he had said. Every job she’d done the last five years, or would do for the next fifty for that matter, combined wouldn’t amount to that much cash. You’ve got enough money, she tried to tell herself. Walk away!

  Nelsonn’s boots advanced toward her. They stopped abruptly and she could feel his gentle breath on her ear.

  “Vim was not our ultimate objective here. There is still one more job I need you to do. If you can pull it off, I promise that you will never have to spill blood again.” He paused. “And you will never have to see me or my team for the rest of your life.”

  “You don’t have that kind of money,” she whispered.

  Even with him behind her, she knew his mouth curled into his cruel smile. “No, but Nu does. And if he doesn’t have it all, I’m sure Mylan Tackkert will make up the difference.”

  Suddenly, everything made sense. “That’s how you got him to help you get out.”

  “Smart girl,” Nelsonn said. “He wanted out of the limelight. I provided the way for it to happen. He wants to relocate to this soon-to-be-abandoned station and is willing to pay anything for it. And Tackkert, well, he would do anything to bring Carsus down. So, what do you say? I’ll even throw in the yacht as a down payment. You can sail off into the ‘distant horizon’ as far as you want.”

  The take was too hard to ignore; the money, plus the ship. Despite that, her head blared with alarm. Nelsonn was manipulating her again, exploiting her greed and demanding she continue a life she no longer wanted. But if she were to do it, she would have to do the same thing she’d done in other jobs and take personal feelings out of the equation. In her mind Nelsonn would become a client, not her husband, not her lover, not even her friend. She would treat him with the same deference as other clients. If he reneged on any of his part of the deal, he would suffer the same consequences other clients had. Besides, she thought, if he betrays me and I kill him, I could still collect the hundred million Con offered. It wouldn’t be a total loss.

  Her decision made, she at last breathed, “Deal.”

  “Excellent!” Nelsonn beamed. “Let’s get to work. We only have two weeks to bring about the end of the world.”

  CHAPTER 26

  VOTE

  “Three days,” Pilan Ahkman said stoically as he gazed out over the Forum from his temporary office in the LAB. “It only took three days for our company to die.”

  “Don’t be so melodramatic,” Dantral Brahlim called from one of the chairs opposite Ahkman’s desk. “There will be some challenges, yes, but I have to agree with the committee’s findings that we can maintain a viable financial relationship with the station even after the transition.” He took a small sip from the steaming mug in his hands then returned the cup to its saucer. “Although, I am surprised they made that determination so quickly. Nathaniel gave them the whole two weeks to make their findings. At least they extended their decision to three days, although I think that was only to make it look like they took their time.”

  Ahkman’s eyes widened. “How can anyone accept what they found?” he raged. “This is a monumental decision and this ‘committee’ signed off on it within a few days! In twenty-four hours, a vote will be cast by these simpletons trying to create a nation that they can’t possibly maintain!”

  “Calm down,” Josephina Leniston interjected, more than a hint of agitation in her voice. Ahkman turned to glare at his companion who was seated in the hard, black armchair at the far side of the room, a cup and saucer in her petite hands. “You’re not helping anybody by crying about it.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down, woman!” Ahkman erupted, the vein on his forehead bulging. “Do you know what the fallout of this whole thing is going to be?”

  Leniston rolled her eyes at his outburst. Their relationship had been increasingly strained since arriving on Selene II. He was sure she had noticed it too, but neither had an explanation for it other than they had just tired of one another. Or it could even have been that they were just simply bored with one another. More than once the thought had occurred to him they needed to pursue other interests when they returned to Earth.

  “Yes,” he answered his own question, speaking in general but directing his comments at her, “they will have their opportunity to wave their flags, hold hands and sing patriotic songs as they hoist Nathaniel up on a pedestal. There is already talk of making him some kind of quasi-monarch, or president at the very least. But in the end, this will all be pointless. They will be bankrupt within the year.” He pointed a slender finger at Brahlim. “Do you know who our largest contractor is for this place?”

  Brahlim nodded as he sipped his drink. “Mm-hm. China.”

  Ahkman roared as if Brahlim hadn’t answered. “China! Do you know how many of the people out there are Chinese researchers? More than fifteen thousand! What is their government going to say when they find out that their money isn’t going to fund those people’s research but to further a cause they absolutely won’t condone: freedom of choice? The consequences will be disastrous not only for the population up here, but for the shell of the company that will be left. Without their contracts, we’ll be sunk. The Americans and Russians won’t have the resources and manpower we need and our European partners will bail before they do. In fact, they have already begun pulling their people out of here, in addition to hundreds of Russian and Chinese scientists on their way out as of a few days ago.”

  His impassioned words seemed to deflect off the abnormally calm Brahlim. Ahkman fumed as his superior seemingly brushed his concerns aside. “Why doesn’t anyone understand what’s going on here?” he asked himself rhetorically, taking a seat next to his wife.

  Brahlim looked at his comrade. His eyes danced with amusement.
“Well then if that’s the case, we could always sell to Medes.”

  There had been few times in his life when Ahkman considered succumbing to a murderous rage. Leniston’s sharp burst of laughter at Brahlim’s comment brought him close to that option. I could eject both of them from the station airlock before anyone would even notice, he thought.

  “I’m afraid that ship has sailed,” he finally said, through clenched teeth, “We probably still could but at a significantly diminished price. Our assets will be slashed with our most prized possessions and voided contracts bringing massive debt attached to them. If we sold to Medes, it would be through bankruptcy. I don’t see that as an option anymore.”

  “Then what do you see as an option?” someone asked behind them.

  During Ahkman’s rant, Naitus Brill had hobbled unnoticed into the room, leaning heavily on his rosewood cane. His black robe hung on his bent frame like a large drape over a small table.

  For the last several weeks the old man had aged considerably. In fact, Ahkman hardly recognized the man. His hair had lost most of its color other than the blazing white of an arctic snowstorm. His back and knees bowed when he walked but even more so when he sat. More noticeably, however, the spark in his eyes had dulled. Over the years, especially when Ahkman had become part of the board, the two had sparred vehemently about the direction of the company, and for his part Ahkman had come to respect the tenacity and the fire of the former chairman and founder. It was with some disappointment that he observed the decay of his trusted adversary.

  “Well, I think independence is a great idea. But even if I didn’t, what else could you do, blow the whole thing up and collect the insurance money?” Benunce Fridman, the only other board member to make the trip, offered sarcastically.

  Sensing his cause was lost Ahkman abandoned the chair by Josephina so Brill could sit, then slumped onto the one behind the desk. He glared out the window overlooking the Selene City Forum amphitheater. “That’s not a bad idea,” he mumbled to the window.

  Brahlim put down his mug and leaned forward and looked thoughtfully at his comrade. “I understand your frustration, Pilan, I do, but the greater concern I have isn’t so much financial as it is political.”

  This got Ahkman’s attention. He rotated his chair back toward the conversation to catch all of Brahlim’s meaning, not just his words but his body language as well.

  “I agree that China presents a huge problem,” he began, “but I think we need to broaden our perspective on whom this will impact more. The United Nations has boisterously opposed any efforts to nationalize an extraterrestrial colony. The majority of nations agree that no one country should have a foothold on outer space as if they were afraid it would lead to some interplanetary empire. Do you have any idea the assurances I made to senators and ambassadors just to get permission to organize these stations? How many campaign contributions we had to make to get the right amount of influence in parliaments all over the world? It was an enormous headache. If we go back on our word now, I foresee a serious threat not only to us and everything we’ve built, but to the people who live here as well.”

  There it was, the hope Ahkman was looking for. Brahlim agreed with him, even if it was for a different reason. Regardless of why, he had to seize that shred of doubt and widen it until it was a gaping hole of disbelief.

  “You’re right!” he said triumphantly. “Precisely. Why should these people think themselves above the community of nations? All of humanity cries out against such a move. We should do what we can to protect them from themselves.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Ahkman glimpsed a half-smile form on the side of Brill’s mouth. “Are you finding our conversation amusing, Mr. Brill?” he asked, sharply.

  Brill chuckled softly then leaned forward on his cane. “I do. I can’t believe that you are still discussing this after the matter has all but been decided. The vote is less than a day away and from what I’ve seen, there is overwhelming support for independence. Your words are just wasted breath.”

  The old man’s sarcasm inflamed Ahkman. Instinctively, his hand gripped the letter opener on his desk, a sinister looking replica of a Roman gladius, but suppressed the urge to hurl it at the last surviving Carsus founder. The former financial officer slumped back in his chair and turned his attention to the letter opener. He thoughtfully spun the blade between his thumbs and forefingers. The fact that he had the dagger on the station was a mystery especially because of the strict ‘no weapons’ policy on the Selene stations. He had found it in the office the day Vim allowed him access to the room and caught himself unconsciously twirling it whenever he sat in the chair.

  He considered his options, but in truth, Brill was right. There was nothing they could do as long as Nathaniel was in charge. He studied the opener more, watching the soft white overhead lights reflect on the polished blade as it spun in his hand. Maybe that was the answer to the problem. Nathaniel couldn’t be voted out since he practically owns the company, but perhaps there was another way, one that the ancient Romans employed on more than one occasion.

  “What if Nathaniel were not around to see the vote through?” he asked indifferently, keeping his focus on the blade. “Suppose he had an accident, or ate something that disagreed with him? Do you suppose that would put an end to this madness?”

  Brahlim’s cup stopped just short of his lips. “You’re joking, right?”

  Ahkman leaned back in the faux leather chair and spun around to look out the window again. “Of course,” he said.

  His answer did not convince Brahlim, who set his cup down and eyed the back of Ahkman’s head. “That’s not even an option and I am shocked you would even suggest such a thing.”

  The indignant tone in his voice sparked Ahkman’s anger once more.

  “Why not? Nathaniel’s betrayed us, his own class,” Ahkman howled. “He’s sided with the masses and forgotten everything we’ve worked for. I will not stand by and watch him divide the wealth we could have earned from this station to these people!”

  His colleagues sat in stunned silence at his threat, all except Josephina. Her reaction was more of exasperation, rolling her eyes once more as he finished. Brahlim was incensed but rather than incite another argument, he simply rose from his chair, straightened his tunic, and turned toward the door.

  “We’ll adapt and make this work just as we have with every other challenge the company’s survived. You’ll see.” The office door whisked open as he approached it. “Good night, everyone. I’ll see you all on stage for the announcement tomorrow evening.” He stepped through the door, with Fridman in tow, and disappeared down the hall.

  No sooner had Brahlim left then the somber mood was broken by Brill’s feeble voice.

  “What if I told you I agreed with you?”

  Ahkman looked skeptically at Brill. “What do you mean?”

  Brill reclined in his seat, but his posture was anything but relaxed. “Without a leader, a movement fails. I’ve always believed that if something stands in your way, you remove it. Schulaz would have run this company into the ground. His plans to develop space-based weapons with the Indian government violated every international treaty in existence. You and the rest of the board may have been right in trying to sell the company off to Medes, but my pride wouldn’t let me see that. So instead I removed what I thought was the problem.”

  The two board members stared at the man in stunned silence. Josephina gasped at his last sentence. “What are you saying?” she asked in disbelief.

  “I thought Nathaniel would reverse everything Hanel had done. He is an honest, forthright man of integrity whom I expected to show the world that what we were doing here was honorable and worth pursuing.”

  Gingerly, he rose from his chair and strode over to the window, staring blankly out at the Forum below. “For a time, my plan worked. New contracts and acquisitions came swiftly, our reputation in the press was favorable, and stock prices rose steadily. Nathaniel became the beacon, the poster-child f
or professional ethics in the hard world of a commercial space business. He had become everything I could have dreamed he’d be.” He turned swiftly, startling Ahkman slightly, his eyes afire. “But to get him in, I had to remove Hanel,” the Carsus founder confessed.

  “I don’t believe it,” Josephina finally said.

  Ahkman was more accepting. “I do. It makes perfect sense. He needed Schulaz out and a new, malleable president to step in and stop the sale; someone he could handpick then turn the reins over to.” A cruel smile formed on his lips. “But this driver took the carriage down the wrong road.”

  Brill nodded. “Precisely. Vim and his fairytale vision of the future have corrupted him with the notion that corporations are obsolete in the new extraterrestrial world. Exploration is for those seeking to be free, wishing to govern themselves, sharing all of their research and discoveries openly for all of humanity to enjoy. Nathaniel bought into all of it and now he has become the very thing I’d wished to avoid; the harbinger of Carsus Corp’s destruction. Now it’s time I correct that mistake. I know you’ve been working with Tackkert at Medes for the last two years. Oh please,” he remarked at Ahkman’s feigned shock at the mention of his betrayal, “do you honestly think you’re the only one committing industrial espionage here? I’ve had people in Medes for years.”

  The old man continued. “I want you to send a message to Tackkert and tell him that Carsus is about to back on the market. He should be ready to buy. I won’t stop him this time.”

  Ahkman’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you do that?”

  Brill reached into his tunic and removed a red disk, approximately one inch in diameter with an image of an elaborate crown etched on one side. A few of the edges were worn with age and slightly chipped on the beveled corners. Brill held up the disk between his thumb and forefinger.