In the confusion, Terry lost track of Klaus, who must have dived for cover. He quickly skipped to the side, looking for the man, and saw two sets of legs kicking wildly from behind a metal table.
Dashing around, Terry saw Jose, bleeding from his arm, sitting on top of Klaus, his hands around the other man’s throat, trying to choke the life out of him.
An ion stream from one of the rifles hit the tiled drop ceiling, and a small section broke free and crashed down on Terry. He threw a hand up to protect his head and glanced over to see two of the Americans tackle the two Cruzados on the other side of the room. Malnourished and weak, they were barely able to pull the pulse rifles out of their opponents hands. In hand-to-hand combat, the Cruzados were getting the better of them.
Captain Gruber wasn’t able to get off another shot before the two other Americans, Lieutenant Jeffries and Corporal Marks, collided with him. They fought for control of the gun.
In front of Terry, Klaus and Jose rolled around on the floor, each trying to squeeze the life out of the other. Terry was all for letting them finish each other off, but he knew he couldn’t chance either of them getting away.
He threw himself at the two men who had been the engineers of his downward moral spiral. The sudden anger he had for them surprised him, and he found himself punching them indiscriminately.
They had lied to him, tricked him, led him to betray himself and the people he loved, and then planned to kill him. The injustice of it all filled him with such a rage, he didn’t even notice that one of them had stabbed him in the stomach with a screwdriver. It was only when Klaus, with a curse in German, kicked him off and onto his back, that Terry felt the shooting pain in his abdomen.
He couldn’t breathe, and it took everything in him to get to his feet.
Klaus was bleeding from his nose and a few other cuts on his face. He spat blood as he used the metal table to haul himself up.
Jose remained on the ground, still and glassy eyed.
With his vision tunnelling, Terry saw that the Americans had managed to subdue the two Cruzados and were keeping them pressed to the ground.
On the other side of the room, Lieutenant Jeffries was on his knees, holding his hand over his face. Corporal Marks and Captain Gruber had both hands on the captain’s gun.
With a vicious kick, Captain Gruber knocked the wind out of Corporal Marks, and the American released his grip on the ion gun. Captain Gruber shot him in the chest, point blank.
Klaus, seeing this, ran to help his uncle.
Like a predator, Terry let out a war cry and charged after Klaus. He had to prevent the two from escaping. If they got out of the room and sounded the alarm, their rest of the Cruzados would easily overcome Terry and the surviving Americans.
Captain Gruber swivelled at Terry’s cry, and fired a charge at him without a moment’s hesitation.
Two things happened at the same time.
First, there was the feeling of a sledgehammer pounding Terry square in the chest. His forward momentum kept him from falling back to the ground, but he couldn’t breathe, no matter how much he tried to force his lungs to inhale.
Secondly, a fraction of a moment later, an ear-shattering explosion sounded from behind him and the entire room filled with light as the ion stream passed clean through him and into the window of the lab.
With the window blown out, the particles of light that Major Turner had become were now free from any barrier, and spilled out into the lab.
Above the ringing in his ears, Terry heard Klaus scream, “No!” as the photons swirled and escaped out into the hall.
Terry saw Lieutenant Jeffries spring up, face bleeding, to collide with Captain Gruber, and he sensed the other soldiers race past him to help bring Klaus and his uncle down.
But the last thought that went through Terry’s mind was not that he had managed to defeat Jose and Klaus, but that he finally figured out what his dream meant.
The gods of old had spoken to him. In order to save his people, Terry had to be sacrificed.
And as he sank to his knees, and the final darkness enveloped his consciousness, Terry decided he was all right with that.
His grandfather would be proud.
28
Unofficial Transcript :
Alex Manez Interview Part Two :
Dated August 2103 :
Frank: “Good morning, Alex. My name is Frank Galloway; I’m the senior advisor for USA, Inc.’s Board of Directors’ oversight committee for Quantum Resources. I’ll be taking over the debriefing from my assistant.”
Alex: “Where’s Edgar?”
Frank: “I wouldn’t worry about him. He’s been reassigned.”
Alex: “I’m not worried. But I still want to know why he isn’t here.”
Frank: “If you must know, this conversation is outside the scope of his security clearance.”
Alex: “And you have enough clearance?”
Frank: “To be honest, I don’t think anyone has enough clearance. But at the very least I’ll be able to determine whether the information you provide can be disseminated, and if so, through which channels.”
Alex: “But your scientists need to know what I know, or we’ll never be able to use Kinemet the way it was intended.”
Frank: “I’ve spoken with the department heads at Quantum Resources. They’ve all assured me that they can make Kinemet a viable fuel for space travel.”
Alex: “Maybe, but the way they are using it is dangerous and very inefficient.”
Frank: “And how does it need to be used?”
Alex: “I don’t know, exactly. But you need to stop them from repeating the Quanta mission. People will die. They need to start over from scratch.”
Frank: “Alex, you strike me as a highly intelligent young man, but this is the real world. There are other factors that need to be taken into consideration.”
Alex: “Such as?”
Frank: “…All right… For one thing, the space program is extremely unpopular at the moment: we are spending billions every year, and so far we haven’t been able to recoup those expenses. Alex, we were hoping for a different result from your mission; something we could use in our PR campaign to bolster support, something that would fire the imaginations of the population. Heck, we’d have settled for a little green man in a flying saucer.
“In the eyes of the media and the public, the Quanta mission was a failure. The ship was destroyed, there was no contact with an alien race, and the viability of Kinemet as a fuel is still years—if not decades—from refinement. We need a success, and soon. The USA, Inc. Board of Directors are generally not scientifically inclined; they’re motivated by opinions and polls, and if they enact policies and expenditures that go against the shareholder majority, they may lose their seats in the administration.”
Alex: “Politics, you mean.”
Frank: “Yes. Exactly. And so, you must also understand that any information you reveal today that goes against the Quanta missions may never go beyond this room.”
Alex: “So you would let Quantum Resources continue down a path doomed to failure rather than set them straight? All for politics?”
Frank: “I’m afraid that’s not my call, but if that’s the final decision, it will come from the CEO’s offices.”
Alex: “It will cost lives.”
Frank: “That’s why I’m here. I want to know everything you know so that we can prevent future accidents.”
Alex: “Nothing I say at this point will help you.”
Frank: “Now, Alex, please be reasonable.”
Alex: “…Do you believe that I was able to put myself into a quantized state when I was in the Centauri system?”
Frank: “The consensus with the department heads indicated that what you think happened may be a result of disorientation or fatigue.”
Alex: “But what do you think?”
Frank: “I’m not certain there is any way to verify your story. I mean, it would go a long way if you could quantize you
rself again and allow our scientists to observe the effects.”
Alex: “I used up all the Kinemetic radiation in my system in Centauri. And it’s also not something I can do here on Earth—there’s too much geomagnetism on a planetary body. If I was recharged, and back in space, I think I might be able to do it again.”
Frank: “That might be a difficult request to fulfill, Alex. There are many people in key roles who cautioned against letting you go on the first mission. They are using the failure as leverage to forward their own agendas and to ensure your removal from the program.”
Alex: “What you are saying is everyone has already made up their minds.”
Frank: “Not everybody, but enough of them to make your request difficult to grant.”
Alex: “So what does this mean for me?”
Frank: “I’m sorry, Alex. I’ve been instructed to tell you that if you cooperate, and reconfirm your non-disclosure agreement, we can offer you a generous compensation package. You’ll never have to worry about money again for the rest of your life.”
Alex: “What if I refuse?”
Frank: “Well, as far as the world knows, Alex Manez is a seasoned pilot for the Canadian Space Force on loan to NASA, and who is of a considerably more mature age. We even have a digital composite image of a few actors made up for the press release and any future interviews. There’s no possible way we can reveal to the world that we let a teenager lead the Quanta mission. That would be a public relations nightmare.”
Alex: “I don’t like to be threatened.”
Frank: “I don’t like to make threats. So what will it be?”
Alex: “I want the agreement all in writing, then I’ll tell you the rest of what happened out there.”
29
Unknown :
The Music of the Spheres fills her mind and soul.
Raw and exposed, all Sol System lies before her.
The energy of the Sun floods her senses.
Like children, the planets dance in orbit.
Come and play, they call out.
Each have their own laugh.
Their voices are songs.
They are alive.
Another song…
Alex?
So small.
He is lost.
There, but not there.
She pushes her thoughts out.
His song is faint and distant.
He needs her help to come home.
A new being of light, she lacks control.
Her essence explodes outward; the galaxy is wide open.
The Song of the Stars fills her mind and soul.
30
Quantum Resources :
Toronto :
Canada Corp. :
It was as if he had been an entire world away.
When the skybus circled the Toronto Pearson International Airport to line up with the runway for final approach, Michael looked out the window at the buildings and streets whipping past in a blur; and for the first time in over a week, he breathed a sigh of relief. It was like seeing an old friend after a long separation.
In a way, arriving back in Canada was very surreal. Michael had been through so much in Honduras it almost seemed as if he had lived two different lives.
Yaxche sat in the aisle seat, his fingers wrapped around the armrest in a stranglehold, his eyelids pressed closed tightly. He had never been on an aircraft before. At first, he’d been excited by the experience, but his enthusiasm had dimmed at the sudden pressure put on the passengers upon takeoff, and turned completely to fear with the first bout of turbulence that shook the skybus like a baby’s rattle.
The old man wouldn’t listen to Michael’s explanations about aerodynamics or the safety of modern air travel. The only thing he spoke in reply was a prayer to the sky gods.
Even when the plane had stopped, Yaxche still would not relax his grip on the armrests. It was only once they disembarked the plane that he regained some of his normal color.
In the terminal, Michael spied Raymond McGrath in the large hallway, waving to get his attention.
“Over here,” Michael said to Yaxche in English—he had purchased a clip-on translator for him at the Tegucigalpa airport—and crossed the distance to Raymond. “I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine.”
After Michael introduced the two of them, Raymond said, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir. We’re all very excited to have you join us in the labs. Calbert and I have been speculating like a couple of old gossips.”
Raymond turned to Michael. “We’ll grab your luggage and head over to the hotel. We booked you two a suite. You can get cleaned up, rest.”
Michael shook his head. “I’d rather head straight over to QR—if that’s all right with you,” he said to Yaxche, who nodded. To Raymond, he said, “Maybe we can get some fast food on the way.” They started down the hall to the baggage area.
“I miss fast food.”
∞
They all slid into an autotaxi after loading their bags in the trunk, and the vehicle engaged its forward drive the moment the doors sealed.
With his thought-link implant, Raymond was connected with the EarthMesh, and was able to instantly communicate with any linked computer. While the autotaxi had a manual interface for the majority of people—like Michael—who didn’t have one of the implants, Raymond was able to send the vehicle their destination with a simple thought.
While Michael always considered himself an adopter of new technology, thought-link was one advance that did not appeal to him, though he understood why a certain segment of the population jumped at the chance to be connected to the mesh twenty-four-seven.
In his life as an administrator, Michael had spent most of his workday being constantly interrupted. It took extreme organization to juggle the hundreds of daily requests from staff, review info bulletins from the scientific community, process directives from his governmental superiors, and find time in his day to tend to personal needs. To have access to the millions of meshposts, blogs, forums, and newsvids around the clock would only be another distraction.
The downside was that, unless Michael was physically in front of a computer, he had to get his news secondhand.
So when Raymond’s eyes widened as he received an alert that was obviously important, and he said, “You’ll want to see this,” Michael had to flick on the holoslate built into the autotaxi’s dash to find out what was going on.
He quickly logged into this favorite news channel and selected the headline.
∞
Honduran Rebel Movement Crushed.
In a concerted effort, the Honduran Military and the Honduran Public Police Force raided several holdouts across the Central American country corp. at dawn this morning following reports of rebel activity.
A spokesman for the Honduran Minister of the Interior reported that the armed force sustained zero casualties, though a number of rebels were killed in the process. Over two hundred arrests have been made, including several prominent land owners and government officials who are suspected of involvement.
Calling themselves the Cruzados, the movement’s political mandate was to assume leadership over Earth through a monopoly of space travel. According to one source, the rebels believe their actions are destined by ancient Mayan doctrine. The Cruzados are also suspected in the hijacking of the Lunar Lines ship, the Diana, out of Canada Station Three. The whereabouts of the vessel and its passengers are still unknown.
In a joint statement, representatives of the Honduran and Guatemalan Heritage Societies condemned the Cruzado movement.
∞
Accompanying the story, there was video showing helicopters descending on a plantation—Michael couldn’t tell if it was Oscar Ruiz’s or not—and Honduran soldiers pouring out and taking up positions against Cruzados, whose faces were obscured by long kerchiefs. After a quick exchange of gunfire, the Cruzados, obviously overmatched, surrendered. In handcuffs, they were marched into armored vans.
Raym
ond said, “I just linked with Calbert. He received word from John Markham that Humberto was integral in the raid, feeding them all the information they needed on the other Cruzado encampments.”
Yaxche said, “Of course; he’s a friend of mine,” as if that explained everything.
Raymond paused a moment and spoke in a somber tone. “And they’ve recovered George’s body. It’ll be flown back here within the next few days.”
Michael’s face was rigid, and his jaw clicked, but his reaction was not because of Raymond’s last statement. The raid and the recovery of George’s body was good news, but he’d been expecting it after Markham had let him know Humberto had made contact.
“What?” Raymond asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Michael growled his words.
“Tell you what?”
“About the Diana hijacking.” Michael could feel his face flush in anger. He punched in a dozen search queries and brought up all the information he needed to get up to speed. He was particularly alarmed to read that they suspected the liner itself may have been pointed toward the Sun.
“Justine works for them,” he said in a flat voice. “Was she on that flight?”
“I’m sorry,” Raymond said, nodding in confirmation. “I know you two are friends. I thought you knew. It’s been all over the news for a—” He shut his mouth with a snap, as if only just then realizing that Michael had been out of contact for all that time, and grimaced in apology.
Michael dismissed the apology with a slight headshake. “I’ve seen what the Cruzados are capable of. They couldn’t have engineered that hijacking without some serious help. Tell Calbert to clear his day; we need to make some enquiries.”
∞
When they arrived at the Quantum Resources administration offices, Calbert was in the lobby waiting for them.
“Glad to have you back,” he said to Michael, clasping his hand in greeting.
Michael gave him a single firm nod. “Glad to be back. This is Yaxche.”
Music of the Spheres (The Interstellar Age Book 2) Page 20