by V J Kavanagh
V J KAVANAGH
PROVENANCE I
FLEE THE BONDS
Published 2016 by V J Kavanagh at Smashwords
Copyright © V J Kavanagh 2015
All Rights Reserved
ISBN 978-0-9930369-4-1
The moral right of the author has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval systems, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This publication is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue
20:09 FRI 20:10:2119
07:08 SAT 21:10:2119
08:57 SAT 21:10:2119
10:33 SAT 21:10:2119
10:57 SAT 21:10:2119
11:50 SAT 21:10:2119
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11:51 SAT 21:10:2119
14:43 SAT 21:10:2119
15:21 SAT 21:10:2119
18:49 SAT 21:10:2119
23:52 SAT 21:10:2119
01:24 SUN 22:10:2119
07:56 SUN 22:10:2119
10:52 SUN 22:10:2119
20:22 SUN 22:10:2119
23:19 SUN 22:10:2119
07:15 MON 23:10:2119
08:32 MON 23:10:2119
09:52 MON 23:10:2119
14:02 MON 23:10:2119
16:29 MON 23:10:2119
19:16 MON 23:10:2119
22:59 MON 23:10:2119
08:12 TUE 24:10:2119
16:37 TUE 24:10:2119
20:14 TUE 24:10:2119
20:46 TUE 24:10:2119
22:56 TUE 24:10:2119
08:14 WED 25:10:2119
08:37 THU 26:10:2119
23:49 FRI 27:10:2119
00:46 SAT 28:10:2119
10:19 SAT 28:10:2119
09:28 SUN 29:10:2119
11:28 SUN 29:10:2119
20:07 SUN 29:10:2119
05:49 MON 30:10:2119
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13:36 MON 30:10:2119
14:05 MON 30:10:2119
12:47 TUE 31:10:2119
16:40 TUE 31:10:2119
18:26 TUE 31:10:2119
09:58 WED 01:11:2119
19:11 WED 01:11:2119
08:21 THU 02:11:2119
11:54 THU 02:11:2119
14:52 THU 02:11:2119
20:08 THU 02:11:2119
01:03 FRI 03:11:2119
01:53 FRI 03:11:2119
03:13 FRI 03:11:2119
09:16 FRI 03:11:2119
19:37 FRI 03:11:2119
21:18 FRI 03:11:2119
21:58 FRI 03:11:2119
23:28 FRI 03:11:2119
23:48 FRI 03:11:2119
08:28 SAT 04:11:2119
11:07 SAT 04:11:2119
13:56 SAT 04:11:2119
14:07 SAT 04:11:2119
14:29 SAT 04:11:2119
15:13 SAT 04:11:2119
15:32 SAT 04:11:2119
18:05 SAT 04:11:2119
22:11 SAT 04:11:2119
01:26 SUN 05:11:2119
01:48 SUN 05:11:2119
02:59 SUN 05:11:2119
03:31 SUN 05:11:2119
04:10 SUN 05:11:2119
04:31 SUN 05:11:2119
06:14 SUN 05:11:2119
07:41 SUN 05:11:2119
08:23 SUN 05:11:2119
09:33 SUN 05:11:2119
10:06 SUN 05:11:2119
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10:19 SUN 05:11:2119
10:42 SUN 05:11:2119
10:43 SUN 05:11:2119
It is 16:46 EDT. One year from today.
The President’s serenity reflected in the windowpane, unmoved by the thunderclaps cracking the doom-laden summer sky. SECSTATE was thankful it was her decision to make and not his.
‘So we build it?’ His damp palm grasped NASA’s report — and its apocalyptic conclusion.
As Julianna turned, a flash of lightening white seared the Oval Office’s humid air. ‘We do George. Although I have a feeling billions will wish we hadn’t.’
20:09 Fri 20:10:2119
Bureau 03-12-01, Provenance, LEO
Backlit viewscreens lined the walls of the austere bureau, their blank displays looking out across an expanse of shadow to an immense crescent shaped black table doused in light.
Recessed within the high ceiling, two parallel lines of twelve spotlights followed the table’s curvature. The inner beams sank into the table’s glossy surface, while each outer beam cast down on a black high backed chair.
Two were occupied.
Both men wore mandarin collared tunics, one of black and indigo, the other silver. To the casual observer their complexions bore the insipid hallmark of Provenance’s permanent crew members, but on closer inspection the spotlight’s glare revealed the unblemished polymer skin of the man uniformed in black, less so his synthetic stubble. He spoke first.
‘Have you read the interrogation transcript?’
‘I have.’ The human raised an eyebrow. ‘Did they survive?’
Crease lines formed at the corners of polymer lips, revealing the glint of ceramic teeth. ‘The wife fared better than the husband, but yes, they survived.’
‘Good, we may yet need them. Which one broke?’
‘Neither, the information came from their other son.’
The human frowned. ‘I thought he’d died years ago.’
‘He did.’ The polymer smile broadened. ‘So they made a new one. Would you like to meet him?’
‘I don’t think that would be wise.’
Polymer coated fingers tapped the keypad shimmering beneath the table’s surface. ‘Do not be concerned Councilman. No one but I knows your identity.’
All around them, viewscreens flickered into a picture of a white tiled room. A bare chested man lay strapped to a surgical chair, his arms raised by extended armrests.
The Councilman leant forward and looked up at the viewscreen opposite. ‘What is that in his chest?’
‘That is the key, or at least half of it. We believe the other dolphin acts as a trigger once it is paired with its twin.’
‘How sentient is he?’
‘Very. Although all moral constraints can be overridden to protect his brother.’
The Councilman leant back and rested his clasped hands on the table. ‘When his brother is activated it is us who will require protection, and that Morton is our conundrum. If we kill them now we will never leave orbit.’
‘What do you mean? All we have to do is find the other dolphin and extract the code.’
The Councilman smiled. ‘Being artificial puts you at a disadvantage when it comes to paternal instincts.’ He swivelled to face the black and indigo uniform. ‘Their parents want them both to survive, so they have devised a strategy to accomplish just that. I suspect the dolphins can only be triggered by Stephen Arrowsbury and the only way he will do that is if we find a way of introducing him to his new brother. Far from killing him, you must protect him — at least for now.’
07:08 SAT 21:10:2119
Intra Zone, Wiltshire, England, Sector 2
Entombed in darkness, Steve waited for them
to arrive. He knew they’d find him, his executioners always did.
Their incessant humming reverberated through Cool Breeze and their yellow suitcase-like shells clattered against the boat’s hull. He stood in the saloon, his desperation focused on the portholes. Even on tiptoes, his small hands couldn’t reach the shutters.
The humming drew closer; they were inside.
Gliding in and out of the cabins, they stabbed their blades of light into hiding places and filled the boat with their hot metallic exhaust.
One of them entered the saloon, its beam of malevolence shone in Steve’s face and its saucer of an eye pierced his soul. They knew he’d killed his twin brother, and they’d come to punish him.
The Prefect hovered closer, its weapons port slid open and the stub of a plasma cannon protruded from its yellow carcass.
Steve gritted his teeth and raised his wooden sword.
* * * *
‘Steve.’
He opened his eyes. A curved teak ceiling and peach mood lighting affirmed reality. The grip on his shoulder eased, replaced by a soothing caress.
Penny’s eyes smiled, ‘Are you okay?’
Twisting onto his side, Steve stroked curly strands of auburn hair from her cheek, ‘Fine, too much cheese probably.’
‘You always say that.’ She slid a warm hand over his shoulder and pulled him towards her. A muffled bark resounded along the passageway.
Steve rolled his eyes. ‘Doesn’t that mutt ever sleep?’
‘He loves you too.’ Penny pecked his cheek, ‘It’s time for his walk.’
‘What?’ Steve slumped back, lifted his left wrist, and rotated the Mutable Personal System’s selector dial. Blue ticker text scrolled across a white background, 07:10:52 SAT 21.10.2119 > SR 07:42 > SS 18:05 > W-11-NW > TPL-8 > TPH-15 > P-0%.
‘It’s still dark.’
Penny snuggled into his shoulder. ‘Digby’s not scared.’
Steve plucked the MCD from the bedside cabinet and tapped its screen. Silky music drifted in.
He tapped again and watched the ceiling panels separate into a broad skylight of cloudless sapphire and starry diamonds. The prospect of a sunny day brought a smile.
A glowing disc appeared, moving west to east. Steve’s smile died, his thoughts consumed by an entity idolised by a select few, loathed by everyone else. Provenance.
His grandparents had often told him of the excitement in 2017 when America, Russia and China had dissolved the procrastinating UN and formed the ARC Council. The Council's first decree had been the declassification of all research, allowing technology to advance twenty years overnight and the design phase of humanity’s salvation to begin.
Cocooned from reality, the excitement had continued into Steve’s childhood. For his and Matt’s seventh birthday, their parents had given them a scale model of the twelve-kilometre diameter and two-kilometre high Provenance. They’d completed it in three weeks, sixty-two years and fifteen weeks less than it took for the actual ship. It was the last model he and Matt had built.
He’d have to wait eleven more years before Provenance left orbit with Continuity, the one million survivors of the human race. If they ever manage to start the engines.
The disc passed out of view, leaving only the fading stars.
Steve’s reason for not leaving with Continuity lay beside him. After Provenance’s departure, he hoped he and Penny would have thirty happy years together before another glowing object appeared.
The comet Colossus wouldn’t fade. It would grow brighter, larger, until it filled the sky and consumed the thoughts of everyone left behind. Colossus had a nucleus the size of Arizona and it would impact Earth at 11:14GMT on Wednesday the 18th of May 2168. Nothing living would survive.
He glanced down. Penny’s eyes had closed, her breathing slow and rhythmic. They both led secret lives, but it was his job to know about hers and prevent her from discovering his. He was an Advocate in Continuity Security, sworn to defend Continuity against the Resistance. Although he’d often wondered what it was he defended.
He eased out of bed and responded to her murmur, ‘I’m going for a run.’
‘Don’t forget Digby.’
‘Chance would be a fine thing.’
Steve changed and followed the passageway aft. His MPS vibrated; he lifted his wrist and blinked at an olive skinned face, squatting on a bull’s neck and capped by a sheen of slicked-back hair. ‘Morning Jas.’
Jason squinted, ‘Can we switch to the viewer, you look like you’re in a closet.’
‘I’m in the passageway; and no, Penny’s here.’
‘Oh, Stevie, another sleepover with your janitress? When you gonna tell her you’re one of the bad guys?’
Steve sighed. Jason was the only other person in CONSEC who knew Penny wasn’t Steve’s cleaner. ‘So why are you up so early?’
‘Just got in. You missed a good night.’ Jason’s face filled the screen. ‘Remember you said last time you were in town, you thought you were tailed.’
‘The red duffle coat you said was paranoia.’
‘Right. Well, I got tailed to Mitzys last night. Tanned, brunette bob, cute.’
Steve stifled a yawn. ‘Your memory hasn’t improved has it? I told you, mine had frizzy blonde hair and you wouldn’t call her cute— not with that nose.’
‘Oh yeah. Never mind, probably a CONSEC beanie.’
Steve moved the MPS closer to his mouth. ‘Or Resistance. Have read the intel?’ Steve had. The Resistance had always been a manageable threat, but their confidence was growing and if they ever obtained tech weaponry, they might win.
Jason shook his head, ‘Your paranoia kicking in again. Nah, she was too obvious. If I see her again, I’ll run her through the net.’ He rubbed his eye. ‘So whatta you up to today?’
‘You should know, Commander.’
‘Should I, Captain?’ Jason eyes lit up. ‘Oh yeah, the Health Ministry honcho. It’s only a chat, there’s no evidence he’s Resistance. Probably got reported cos he didn’t pay his dues to the Barons. Just show him your Cogent and tell him what happens when a million-volt plasma ball lands in his pants.’
Steve rubbed his stubble, ‘Does it have to be this afternoon?’
‘Sorry, buddy. I didn’t know Penny was on the menu.’ Jason huffed. ‘That’s what you get for leading a double life. If it makes you feel any better, I gotta work too.’ Jason glanced up. ‘In about two hours. Gotta a briefing, dunno what about. You heard from Dee and Bo?’
‘No. I saw Provenance earlier.’ Steve smiled, outwardly. ‘It seemed intact.’ Dee and Bo were the junior Advocates of their four-man Quad, and now, thanks to Steve, they were conducting an infiltration exercise on Provenance. With charged weapons.
‘Well, it’s your call Steve, and if they mess up and Provenance falls outta the sky, it’s your fault. Which reminds me, I gotta date with Carine tonight.’
‘That’s going to make Dee happy, send him off to Provenance, and then steal his girlfriend.’
Jason screwed up his face, ‘She ain’t his girlfriend; she’s the fitness guru for the whole Quad. Anyhow, sending them upstairs was your idea, so it’s still your fault.’
‘Is that it? Because I’m off for a run.’
Jason grinned. ‘You got your exercise regime all wrong Stevie.’
‘See you Monday, Jas.’
‘See you, buddy. And don’t forget, less running, more exercise.’
Steve reset his MPS and reached for the door handle.
The Springer spaniel pushed through the gap and leapt up. Steve rubbed the brown and white coat. It had been two years since he’d gone with Penny to collect Digby from the kennels, and he had to admit he’d grown fond of the mutt.
‘Get down.’
He stepped around the twirling dog and tapped the keypad attached to the stern bulkhead. The keypad beeped and Cool Breeze deactivated, unfolding its stern doors and sliding back its cockpit cover to expose th
e breaking dawn sky.
Up on the deck, Steve lifted a stowage lid and pressed his thumb down on the Biofield Reader Decoder. A biomechanical chip implanted in his wrist enhanced his biofield, an energy matrix as unique as his DNA. Everyone had a biofield ID, unless they were dead. Which is what they would be if they were found without one.
The BRD shone red, the cockpit cover glided shut and the stern doors closed. Cool Breeze joined the other darkened boats slumbering on the misty stillness of the canal. Only Cool Breeze wasn’t like other boats, Steve couldn’t stop his nightmares from entering, but he could everything else. His and Penny’s life depended on it.
He set off on his run, mindful that someone would invariably be watching him.
Keeping fit had been a passion since his late teens, probably as a result of being a sickly child. Following the accident, he’d spent much of his comatose childhood in his parent’s clinic recovering from extensive brain damage. The fact that he’d lived and Matt had died only added to his guilt.
His weekend circuit took an hour to complete and by the time he approached the final bridge, the rising sun dazzled off the canal’s reflective calm.
He exited the bridge and slowed at the sight of Cool Breeze’s seventeen metres of ultramarine and silver livery. White ribbons curled from the stubby chimneystack and wood smoke flavoured the crisp air. Penny had lit the stove. The serene imagery encapsulated everything he desired, and exposed his vulnerability.
* * * *
As Steve undressed, Penny arrived aft, leant over the wagging Digby and kissed him.
‘Did Digby win again?’
He pulled her rose like freshness close. ‘He’s got four legs.’ Penny’s hazel eyes twinkled under her fringe and over soft pink lips. He lowered his mouth.
She pushed back and smiled. ‘Shower first.’
As he closed the bathroom door, the mirror snared him, drawing his attention to the scar on the front of his right shoulder. There were others, but none older, or more painful.
Having showered, Steve made his way forward into the saloon. Recessed spotlights reflected off polished metal, toffee leather settees, and honey teak panelling. He glanced towards the allure of fresh coffee and the galley. Penny reached up into a cupboard, her elfin figure was far better suited to a canal boat than his.