by Dave Walsh
“Don’t give me false hopes.” Even without inflection or emotion she could tell when Trallex was lying. “You think Trella’s a distraction to me and a disgrace to her people.”
“Perhaps.” He unfolded his arms and turned to her. “We do not pretend to be all-knowing. There is sadly still a margin of error in our calculations and she might prove to be vital in the future for you.”
“That sure makes me feel better.” She let go of the handhold and sat back into the chair behind her. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being uncomfortable being this far out in space. As a girl, she never left Andlios and since she was revived she had never left Cyngen; this was her first time in space and while she was sure Trallex saw the readings of stress, she refused to show any signs outwardly. “So how much longer will this take?”
“There are still seventeen days left, Princess Alva,” Trallex replied coldly. “You could easily pull up the navigational data yourself if you want further information.”
“This is going to be a long journey with you acting like this,” she said. “I guess continue briefing me on the situation down there?”
“Agreed.”
She headed down to the common room they had been using to discuss their plans, gripping tightly onto the rail all throughout. Space travel was oddly calm compared to how she had imagined it, but there was still the irrational fear of something going wrong that she couldn’t shake. It was an unfounded fear, something that Trallex clearly saw as foolish, but as hard as she tried, she was showing weakness by grabbing the rails. That was one thing she wasn’t willing to bend on, though.
“So things have really gotten out of control there, haven’t they?” she asked, settling down into her usual chair closest to the wall.
“Yes, thankfully,” he sat across from her, crossing his legs.
“So the Senate has been dissolved, what else?”
“They have sent key opposition figures away to other planets.” He pulled up a projection showing headshots of a few Andlios Republic figures, mostly senators, but also included the empress and Prime Minister O’Neil. “The empress will be stationed on Andal-3 and the now former Prime Minister O’Neil will be sent to Helgun.”
“From what I’ve seen it seems like the people tend to love Ingen’s wife.”
“Yes,” he said, enhancing her profile. “The empress had gained favor early on after Emperor Freeman’s death as his successor, but Cronus was of age and Katrijn had fled. There was chaos and Cronus took advantage of the situation.”
“What about now? I figure people will be pretty upset about all of these decisions.”
“They are.” He zoomed back out, pulling up some feeds from the planet of riots and protests. “Things have worked out in our favor, which is why we must move quickly. There is unrest. They are using their military force to attempt to quell the discontent, but it is spreading. The people are looking for a leader, which is where you will come in.”
“I’m not really sure I’m much of a leader, though.”
“You will be,” he said. “We shall make sure of it.”
Trella
Space flight had never been a part of her duty when it came to looking after Alva, but she had still been off-world a number of times in her life. It didn’t make the flight any more bearable considering she was the only Cydonian heading to a planet that was the antithesis of Cydonian culture and ways. She stuck out about as much as someone in a fully-mechanized and pressurized suit could among tourists and Helgeans in their robes. She stopped noticing the stares after the first day, but it didn’t make the flight any easier.
Attempting to remain inconspicuous as the sole Cydonian on the flight was nearly impossible, with her actually being one of the main attractions for those aboard the ship. She didn’t mind the gawking, the whispers or the stares as long as no one reported her. No one would know that she had essentially escaped Cyngen without authorization, but by now they would have noticed that she was missing from her quarters and would most likely reach out to the ship’s captain. That concerned her deeply.
At this juncture it would behoove her to seek out the captain and explain her dilemma to him, appeal to his humanity and hope that he wasn’t looking to cash in on any possible reward that was out for her. This was, of course, a risky move in even attempting to broach the topic with anyone, but it felt like her only move. There was still a good chance he wasn’t aware that she was a fugitive and potentially worth a lot of credits. Usually, decisions such as this would be weighed in on via the CyNet, a consensus being reached by multiple Cydonians on where to move forward, but she was disconnected and while it was oddly freeing, it was also lonely. She was left to her baser instincts on decisions such as this and the fear creeped up in the back of her mind as to what could happen if she was wrong. With her mind swimming, she opened the door to her closet-sized quarters to stretch out and attempt to clear her mind. The common areas felt less and less inviting with each passing day, but she needed to get her mind off of Alva.
She walked quietly through the larger common area, outfitted with crash couches, a table and a linkup for holoscanners to project onto a larger screen. A little girl with curly brown hair sat with her mother, quietly playing a game on her holoscanner. There were a few other passengers seated in the same area, each lost in their own holoscanners. She, of course, did not need one because of her suit, but she still wore one on her hip so she wouldn’t seem as out of place as she actually was. The girl’s mother sat next to her with her arm wrapped around her, sporting shorter, straight brown hair and a concerned expression on her face.
“Mama.” The little girl looked up at her mother. “Is that the Cymage everyone is talking about?”
“Shhh,” the mother quickly shushed her daughter. “Yes, but you don’t call them that when they are around, okay?”
“It’s fine, really,” Trella looked over at them, the mother’s face losing its color. “I’ve heard worse before.”
“I’m so sorry, I just…”
“It’s fine,” she said.
“No, I’m very sorry,” the mother seemed flustered. “You are sorry, aren’t you, Saraya?”
“Yes,” the little girl pouted, staring down at her pink and white saddle shoes that just barely reached over the edge of the couch.
“Tell her you are sorry, then, Saraya.”
“I’m sowwy,” the girl said.
“It’s okay.” Trella bent down to look at the little girl. “You are still young, Saraya, I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I’m really sowwy,” the girl reiterated.
“She’s just scared,” the mother said. “She’s never met a Cydonian before.”
“Didn’t this flight come from Cyngen?”
“Well yes,” she said. “But not many Cydonians were around. We were just visiting her uncle out there. She saw a few Cydonians, but at a distance, not up close like this.”
“Well, Saraya.” Trella looked back at the girl, who was fidgeting with the holoscanner in her hands, trying not to look up. “We aren’t that different, you and I, see?” Trella reached up and loosened the hood over her head, pulling it back and letting her hair fall out.
“Oooh,” the girl said, looking up at her then back to her mom. “Mommy, she has hair like I do.”
“She does,” the mom laughed.
“See? Not scary at all,” Trella said.
“I like you,” Saraya said. “You have hair like I do!”
“I like you as well, Saraya,” Trella said. She was smiling underneath her mask but knew that nobody else could see it. It was perhaps the best she had felt since she was with Alva.
“Mom,” Saraya turned to her mother. “Can she help me color?”
“That’s up to…” She looked up at Trella. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I caught your name?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Trella said. “My name is Trella.”
“Trella,” she said. “That is up to Trella here.”
“I
was just going for a walk,” she said. “So yes, I’d love to help you color, Saraya.”
Trella sat down on the couch next to Saraya and her mother, Saraya projecting out the picture she was coloring in front of her. It was a photo of a wild horse with a great flowing mane prancing through a meadow with a great big sun hanging in the sky. The girl had already begun coloring in the horse as brown with white hair. She tapped her chin before looking up at Trella. “You can start on the grass if you want,” she said. “You can pick the color. I think it’s gween, buuut you pick.”
“Okay I will,” Trella said, tapping a lighter green with a blue tinge before she started tracing her finger along with the image and filling in the grass sections.
Sitting there and coloring with the little girl was oddly calming. The girl was rather reckless in how she was painting the horse, with the program compensating for anything that went beyond the lines. Trella on the other hand, carefully traced her finger within the confines of the lines for the grass, making sure not to get any color outside of the lines, even if the computer would quickly erase anything that erred beyond the lines designated for the grass.
“You two look like you are enjoying this,” the mother smiled. “But we should go get something to eat before bed. C’mon, Saraya, say goodbye to Trella for now.”
“Mommmmm, do we have to?”
“Yes.” The woman stood up, turning to Trella. “Thank you so much for being so understanding, Trella. Safe travels.”
“You two as well,” she said, watching as Saraya picked herself up and pouted at her mother, who pushed her along toward the mess hall. The day was growing later, even if it was impossible to tell while aboard the ship in space, but she understood that sleep patterns and comfort relied heavily on the idea of the day/night cycle that humans had evolved along with. Both Earth and Andlios provided these cycles and humans were very fond of keeping their schedules.
The idea of presenting herself to the captain arose again. It felt like both a good idea and a bad idea, one that she couldn’t know the outcome of until she tried. The favorable outcome would be that the captain would hear her out and decide to ignore anything he may or may not hear about her. The other outcome was that she made his job easier for him in turning her over for a reward if Trallex had posted one. She was able to board the ship, which meant they hadn’t known she had left yet, but after days aboard the ship and her not connecting to the CyNet, there were bound to be red flags raised.
The decision to act was an excruciating one but knowing what she might face felt better than doing nothing at all, so she picked herself up and walked to the front of the ship toward the cockpit. The door to the cockpit was open, with seemingly no security concerns aboard the ship, which meant they weren’t concerned about her, at least. Most passengers would simply stay clear of the cockpit, Trella had guessed, but the three men in the cockpit seemed a bit taken off guard when they turned and saw her.
“Can we help you?” The man in the front left chair turned around to face her while the other two stayed quiet.
“Hello,” she said. “I just wanted to come up and introduce myself.”
“I’m Captain Rush,” he said. “Passengers aren’t allowed in this area.”
“I do apologize. My name is Trella and I just had a few questions for you.”
“So, what can we do for you?” He sat back, folding his arms. “As I said, this area is off-limits to passengers.”
“Well the door was open, so I didn’t think it would be a hassle to introduce myself.”
“Which you’ve done,” he was being difficult. “Now if you don’t mind—”
“I just wanted to assure you that I will be no trouble and that I’m simply a passenger aboard this ship.”
“Oh?” He leaned forward. “Now I’m curious.”
“It’s nothing, really.” She found herself stumbling over her words a bit. “I just… Well, you’ve been to Cyngen. I no longer wish to be there, which is not something a Cydonian would usually ever decide.”
“No, it’s not.” He let out a sigh and scratched at his chin. “I’ve been going back between Helgun and Cyngen for almost twenty cycles now, and have never had a Cydonian passenger. You’re the first, I’ll give you that.”
“There is a first time for everything, then.”
“Looks like it,” he said. “Might I inquire as to why you are leaving Cyngen and implying that you won’t be any trouble? None of the other passengers have come up to us to inform us that they won’t be any trouble.”
“You are clearly a very smart man, Captain Rush.” She was still not good at reading emotions and it was unclear if he was ready to turn her in or if he had other plans for her. “My friend was taken off-planet by a few Cydonians on the same day we departed, with a destination of Andlios. It was possibly against her will and I’m looking for her.”
“That sounds pretty serious.” He scratched his chin, swirling back around to face his panel. “Nobody aboard this tub has been taken against their will, though, I’m afraid. You’ll need to look elsewhere.”
“Oh, I am well aware she is not aboard this ship, I was just—”
“Then I’m not sure why you are bothering us.” He kept facing forward. “Now if you wouldn’t mind, this area is off-limits to passengers.”
“I understand, Captain Rush.” She was unsure of how to take the rejection. “I will leave you to your work, then.”
She turned away and was walking out of the cockpit when she heard one of them mutter under their breath, “Fucking Cymages, huh?” The anger began boiling up inside her, alarms were going off inside of her suit and it took all her willpower to not turn around and do something rash. Somehow she was worse off by going in there than she was just staying in the dark. All she knew now was that they knew she was aboard and that she was acting strange. She also knew that they didn’t seem too fond of Cydonians, which played against her.
The rest of the trip was uneventful, at best. After the awkward run-in with the captain and his crew, everyone had kept their distance from Trella whenever she surfaced from her quarters. She had sat in the common area a few times only for it to clear out. She had never felt more alone in her entire life, something that wouldn’t have bothered her cycles before, but since Alva, things had changed drastically for her. A part of her held out hope to see Saraya and her mother again, but for the remaining two days she did not see them, and she felt contagious to the rest of the ship, like she was carrying a deadly virus.
The announcement had just come over the ship to prepare for entry, which meant being strapped into the crash couches in their personal quarters. Trella had spent good money on this flight, which meant that each individual room had its own crash couch. Most passenger flights had a group of such in a common area, which this one did just in case, but it was all about safety. She figured she’d want the alone time, even if it was during such a tense moment.
Trella slipped into her own quarters from the quiet common area, sat back into her couch and pulled the straps over her shoulders and snapped them into place. She needed a plan to get to Andlios as quickly as possible without drawing attention, but she was going to be a stranger in a strange land, possibly one of the few Cydonians on the entire planet of Helgun.
She took a deep breath and felt the pressure of the crushing gravity pressing her to the couch. Her mind shifted to Alva, dripping with water and toweling herself off after a shower like she did daily and she felt her heart skip a beat. Trella knew that she would do whatever she could just to be with Alva again; it was the only thought that was keeping her going.
016. Security Breach
Jace
Jace was pacing outside the door to his room in the Helgean bunkhouse, knowing that Loren was in there trying to get into contact with O’Neil, but getting nowhere. Katrijn—well, Eja now—didn’t trust Loren. Jace had no real reason to trust this Loren, but he also didn’t have a reason to distrust him, either. That was why Loren was sitting the next room
over with his comm gear trying to open a comm link with O’Neil back on Andlios. If Loren was being honest, he was a trained killer and neither one of them would be alive if he wanted them dead, but yet Eja didn’t trust him at all. Jace figured it had to do with all of the running around she did. He couldn’t even imagine what she’d been through since she was forced out of her home.
“He’s lying, you know that.” She sat on the aged wooden bench along the wall with her arms crossed.
“Look, Ka—err Eja.” It was still odd for him to call her that, but he was forcing himself to try to grow comfortable with it. “I know you’ve been hurt by a lot of people, but I don’t think he’s lying. If he was sent to kill you he would’ve killed you already. He’s a capable guy and he saved our lives back there.”
“He was caught by us,” she said.
“Okay, maybe he’s a pretty capable guy then,” he shrugged. “Let’s be honest, though, I think he kind of let us capture him.”
“Why, because I was the one who stopped him?”
“No,” he said, feeling weary from how much she was resisting. “Because he could have killed us from a distance. This town is inside a valley, surrounded by hills, everything is wide open and we haven’t exactly been discreet. He was perched up on one of those hills with a rifle and picked that merc off with ease. Who says he couldn’t have just picked the both of us off?”
“Whatever,” she stood up and kicked on the door gently. “This isn’t the first person I’ve known who has claimed to know my uncle.”
“I’m sure,” he said, “but this guy seems alright, Eja.”
The door creaked open and Loren stood there with his holoscanner in hand, wearing a loopy smile. “So it isn’t your uncle,” he said.
“Then it isn’t good enough,” she said.
“I get that,” he pulled up the projection, “but will Jack Dumas do?”