by Dave Walsh
His holoscanner was picking up a signal from the planet’s comm array and he checked it for new messages. There was one from Jack that quickly perked him up: “Loren. Helgun.” Last he had heard from Loren he was indeed heading to Helgun, but the fact that Loren reached out to Jack was peculiar—maybe there was trouble, he wasn’t sure. He sent off a quick reply; “Landed. Will contact.”
Now it was just a matter of tracking down Loren. O’Neil pulled out his holoscanner and sent a quick message off to Loren. “At the port.” He hoped Loren would show up soon, but there was something peaceful about Helgun and the lack of activity that he hadn’t experienced in quite a while. There was a bench out near the front made of what looked like aged oak. O’Neil dusted off the surface and sat back onto it, letting out a deep sigh while staring off into nothing. He was just a man and his thoughts and it hadn’t been that way in quite a while. O’Neil reveled in the simplicity of sitting out on a bench in the open air without worrying about matters of state, life, death or calculating his next move. He knew things wouldn’t stay this simple for long, but for now they were just that: simple.
A light breeze whipped by, reminding him of the now distant hopes and dreams that he had held while floating to Andlios. Andlios was the promise of a new beginning for humanity, it was going to be the place where he settled down in a cabin and got to live a simple life when the reality was just the opposite. Helgun felt closer to that reality than he had imagined, oddly enough. No, Helgun clearly wasn’t the hope for humanity, it was actually a rather barren planet that didn’t offer much in the way of resources. For the Helgeans, though, they seemed happy to just have a place they could call their own, even if most of their precious resources were imported. O’Neil couldn’t help but marvel in how the Helgeans were able to extricate themselves from the political turmoil on Andlios and find themselves this safe haven in the stars. Maybe life on Helgun wouldn’t be as bad as he had imagined—maybe it was time to retire and let the kids play their wargames.
“Well if it isn’t the Old Man,” a voice stirred him from his sea of thoughts. O’Neil turned to see Loren striding toward him. It had been cycles since he had actually seen him in person, but he looked exactly as he had remembered him.
“Loren,” O’Neil stood up, adjusting his shirt and offering his hand.
“Sir.” Loren gave him a firm shake, clasping his other hand over theirs.
“Jack Dumas told me you were here,” he said. “I’m not quite sure why Jack would know that information.”
“Oh, have you walked into quite a party, sir.” Loren wore a broad smile.
“Is she okay?”
“Who? You mean Katrijn?”
“Yes, I want to see her immediately.” He was beginning to feel anxious.
“Oh, she’s better than okay, sir,” Loren said, looking around. “Let’s get back to the monastery and we can all have a nice long talk.”
“Monastery?” He scratched his chin. “I’ll need to set up an official office at some point; their last laugh was not arranging anything for me.”
“For now we are set up in a monastery bunkhouse,” Loren said. “It’s safe; we’ll get you some place of your own soon enough, but we’d better get back there as soon as possible. This planet is so goddamned dark and only gets darker.”
Loren was right, the planet was rather dim; a bit of a strange orange hue hung over the air, making it feel like it was perennially dusk. Andlios had its share of problems, but from the vids and images he had seen, it was closer to Earth than any of the other planets and moons that comprised the Andlios Republic. They walked in silence through what looked like a small town made up entirely of cabins and other wooden structures. The spaceport seemed to be the most modern structure in the entire city. Modern composite materials would have made a lot more sense for a planet with such sparse resources, but the Helgeans had insisted on having full logs imported to Helgun to keep with their traditions. It was important to their culture for the monks to build their own homes and for them as a community to build communal structures. They walked up to one of the larger cabins, Loren dusting his hands off on his pants and clearing his throat. “So this is home.” He rapped on the door three times before it creaked open a crack. “It’s Loren and I’ve got a special guest.”
“Uncle!” A voice came from inside before the door flew open and a girl darted out and quickly affixed herself to him in an embrace. “Uncle, my gods!”
“Whoa there.” O’Neil had to catch himself from falling over before he wrapped his arms back around her, then pulled her back to look at her. “Katrijn? What happened to you?”
“Oh, yeah,” she smiled, a glimpse of the girl he remembered from her youth shone through. She ran her fingers through her hair. “Jace suggested I make some changes, so we did.”
“Those are some changes,” he said. “Gods it’s good to see you.”
“Folks,” Loren’s voice cut through. “It might be best to get inside.”
“Yes, of course,” O’Neil nodded to him, Katrijn taking his hand and leading him into the cabin. The cabin was larger on the inside than he expected, a hearth in the middle and benches lining either side of the walls, only broken up by doors. It was a bunkhouse of some sort. Seated at one of the benches was a Cydonian woman, hands in her lap and a taller, bulkier man was standing with his back against the wall, his foot resting upon the bench next to the Cydonian, trying to look as effortless as possible with his overgrown beard and hair, but O’Neil knew better and knew the type. “There are some new faces in here, that’s for sure.”
“Oh, right,” Katrijn led him toward the bench with the Cydonian and the brute. “You already know Loren, but this is Jace.” She pointed at the man standing by the bench, who nodded to him and jutted his hand out.
“Jace Krios, sir.” His grip was firm—almost too firm.
“Nice to meet you, finally.” O’Neil did his best to return the grip. “I’ve heard a lot about you and I can’t thank you enough for helping Katrijn out like you have, young man.”
“I didn’t really have much of a choice.” Jace scratched behind his ear. “But then again, she helped me out of a few jams as well.”
“That’s how she is,” he said. O’Neil had read the file Loren had sent him on Jace and it seemed mostly accurate, only he was expecting to immediately hate him. Maybe what he had done for Kat had endeared the man to O’Neil already and he just hadn’t realized it.
“This over here is Trella.” She motioned toward the Cydonian, who was sitting by herself.
“Greetings, Prime Minister O’Neil.” She stood up and offered her hand in one fluid motion.
“Thank you.” He took her hand, feeling a pang of regret. “I’m no longer prime minister, though. I guess I’m Steward O’Neil now. You can just call me Peter if you like.” he turned to Loren, who was standing behind him and whispered to him. “Who is this?”
“Uncle,” Katrijn broke in. “Trella has run away from Cyngen and Trallex.”
“It’s always Trallex, isn’t it?” he said. “What did he do now?”
“She’s here looking for her friend, Alva, who Trallex whisked away to Andlios.”
“Alva, eh?” He scratched his chin, thinking back to Tyr Hedlund’s girl who had died right before they were able to send the Fourth Fleet away. “You know, I once knew a girl named Alva a long time ago, she was friends with your father. She stayed in my quarters once, she was a brave girl.”
“We are talking about the same girl,” Trella said.
“No,” he said. “We really aren’t. Alva died years ago. I always felt partially responsible for it—it’s not the kind of weight that ever leaves you, either.”
“I’m sorry to correct you, sir,” Trella said. “But we are speaking of the same person. Trallex brought her body to Cyngen many cycles ago after that incident and she was repaired and revived.”
“No,” he said. “That can’t be. Tyr had mentioned possibly doing that, but he assured us he wouldn�
��t.”
“I’m not really sure how the decision-making process happened, sir,” Trella said. “But I do know that she was kept there in secret.”
“I want to trust Trallex,” O’Neil was beginning to feel flustered, “but it’s bullshit like this that always comes up with him. There is always a scheme. Gods damnit, Alva is alive and heading back to Andlios. Why?”
“From what we’ve gathered from Trella, nothing good.” Loren sounded defeated. “They are looking to claim the throne from Cronus with Alva.”
“So that is Trallex’s play.” O’Neil felt frustrated that he had given Trallex so much space to operate without oversight. “Loren, you were on Cyngen, how did we not pick up on this?”
“Their security is airtight,” Loren said. “This shit was top secret.”
“So what is our plan here?” He looked around at the group. “There is a play, isn’t there?”
“We were waiting for you,” Jace said. “Katrijn was waiting for you and I was just thinking about taking up a contract out by Gimle or something; I know I can’t stay here.”
“Well.” He pulled his glasses off and rubbed his temples. “It looks like we’ve got some work to do, then.”
Kara
Space travel had left Kara exhausted, to the point where her anxiety had given way to sheer exhaustion. She had met with Jack and Hideo, both of whom were as nice as she had remembered, but she was in no mood to be overly friendly or accommodating. Instead, she headed right for the new quarters that had been prepared for her and fell into the soft bed after clearing the pillows from it. This was not how she imagined her life at this point—Jonah dead, Katrijn off as an outlaw, O’Neil and herself exiled and her son the raving lunatic behind all of it. Yet, that was the reality she found herself in and she felt responsible to clean up the mess.
She felt at ease knowing that O’Neil’s trusted friends were looking over her, but couldn’t help but feel completely out of the loop. She was now the steward to Andal-3, which she wasn’t quite sure what to do with. The title felt merely ornamental and that she was just there to send the occasional report back to Cronus or convey some royal decrees to the locals. Andal-3 was a rather lush, forested moon of the gas giant Andal that they had never gotten around to hashing out an interesting name for and which held very little significance within the Andlios Republic. There were some good resources on the planet, but many found the day/night cycle to be disruptive, never mind the constant threat of torrential storms and the beasts that lived and stalked through the forests. Thus, it was rather forgotten, never even getting a proper name. The name of “Andal-3” just stuck and everyone had agreed that it was too late to worry about a new name at this point. It was close to Andlios’s star, Sowilō, which meant that the days were bright, warm and long, but not uncomfortable. Andal was still within the theoretical “Goldilocks Zone,” meaning not too cold or hot.
When she awoke, the automated blinds on her windows were still up and the room was pitch black. Kara fumbled around for her holoscanner, finding an unusual lack of messages. The steward of Andal-3 wasn’t exactly much of a hands on position, even if she was still technically the empress regent. That was one thing Cronus and that sniveling rodent Giger couldn’t take away from her. She scrolled through and pulled up Jack’s information, quickly calling him. His face appeared on the screen.
“Good afternoon, empress,” he smiled warmly.
“We’re out in the middle of nowhere, Jack,” she said, letting out a yawn while she picked herself up and flicked the controls for the blinds, the light pouring into the room. “Just call me Kara. Has there been any word from Helgun yet?”
“Peter sent a message through,” he said. “It was encrypted pretty heavily and took Hideo a while to crack, but we did. There’s some good news, though: Katrijn is fine.”
“Thank Freyja,” she said. “Anything else from her?”
“There is a lot going on right now with them,” he said. “Let’s meet for dinner here at our place where we can discuss this.”
“Sure.” She stretched out. “I’ll just get myself together and be over soon, then.”
Jack and Hideo’s home was nice by any standards. Like most of the homes on Andal-3, it was built above the treeline to avoid some of the more dangerous local fauna and the wildly unpredictable flash floods that were common on the moon. Their home overlooked one of the larger bodies of water on the moon and was a little ways outside one of the major hubs where Kara was stationed. She felt more comfortable being around people, but if she ever decided she needed to be alone, a home like Jack and Hideo’s would be perfect. Of course, getting herself a home like theirs would be admitting that it was more than a temporary assignment on Andal-3 and that she would most likely live out the rest of her years on this rain-soaked moon.
Her personal transport zipped her over in the late afternoon. Due to Andal-3 being smaller and its rotation, the day and night cycle on the planet was about twice what it was on Andlios. For simplicity’s sake, they treated two days on Andal-3 as one day, so this was the second afternoon of the day. She exited the transport and thanked her attendant, stepping out into the thick, warm air of Andal-3. The air smelled like freshly-fallen rain and condensation seemed to be everywhere, from the deck of their home to the leaves of the surrounding trees. In comparison to the rather uniformity of Krigar and life inside the palace, this felt freeing in many ways.
“Kara!” Jack walked through the glass door with his arms outstretched wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater. It was odd for Kara to see Jack in casual clothing as opposed to the rigid uniforms she had grown accustomed to him wearing.
“Jack,” she smiled at him, taking his embrace. “How nice to see you again! Where is Hideo?”
“Oh, he’s inside. Everyone thinks Hideo is this quiet, well-mannered guy but when he’s cooking dinner he can be kind of a tyrant,” Jack smiled at her, motioning for her to follow him in. “Sorry, wrong choice of words there.”
“Oh please,” she said. “I’d never have known that about him, though.”
“Are you kidding me?” Jack shook his head. “Everyone thought I was the one who pursued a relationship with him, but it was Hideo who did most of the pushing; I was just along for the ride.”
“See, you learn something new every day.”
“That you do, let’s go inside, though,” he said. “It’s nice out now, but there was just a downpour about twenty minutes ago. We love the view here, but sadly the rain is always so unpredictable.”
“Or you just aren’t paying close enough attention to the weather,” she jested.
“Or that, yeah,” he smiled warmly at her as they walked into the neatly decorated home. “It’s a lot of hard work out here on Andal-3, in fact, we are very glad you will be here to assist us, although we wish it was under better circumstances.”
“Me as well.” She took in the surroundings and the almost cold precision of the decor before she saw Hideo emerge from the kitchen, rubbing his hands on a towel before slinging it over his shoulder. “Well, if it isn’t Hideo himself.”
“Kara.” He walked over and squeezed her tightly. “How nice to see you.”
“Gods, Hideo,” she laughed after he let go. “You look like you haven’t aged at all.”
“Look at you, though,” he shook his head. “I don’t want to hear this coming from you.”
“We were actually just talking about you,” she said.
“Oh?” He turned to Jack. “I hope it was all good.”
“I was just telling her about how you chased me and wore me down until I’d go out with you,” Jack said.
“Everyone was so afraid of you, you didn’t even know how to handle someone being so direct with you,” Hideo added.
“So Hideo,” Kara took a whiff of the air. “What’s for dinner, it smells fantastic.”
“Hideo is cooking up some exotic local birds,” Jack said, opening up their liquor cabinet. “Would you like some wine?”
�
�Of course, it all sounds wonderful,” she smiled and sat down on a white leather couch. “A white wine would be excellent.”
“Sure, I’ve got just the thing,” he said.
“Anyway, excuse me for being forward, but I’m getting a bit anxious about why you wanted me here…”
“Right to business,” Hideo shook his head. “It’s not every day I get to cook for royalty, but anyway, Jack, tell her.”
“I already told her that Katrijn was fine, Hideo.”
“No,” he shook his head. “The rest.”
“The rest?” Her interest was piqued immediately. “Do tell.”
“Oh, that,” Jack shook his head. “You aren’t going to believe this. They are planning on heading back to Andlios.”
“Why?” She couldn’t help but laugh.
“To take the throne back.”
018. Home Again
Alva
They had landed in a small private spaceport just on the outskirts of Krigar—at least that was what Trallex told her. This didn’t look like the Krigar she knew. The facility was clean, barren and manned entirely by Cydonians, which was not how she remembered Krigar at all. To Alva it felt like she had never left Cyngen, just boarded a plane and hurtled through the expanse of space only to find herself back in the same place again. Trallex was immersed in thought while the cargo was unloaded and Alva made her way for the small white impression on the wall that she knew served as a door. There were no controls, which made her sigh deeply, close her eyes and turn on her CyNet implants.
A jolt of electricity ran through her body, the displays filling her vision and the sound of millions of voices raced through her mind. She remembered her training, remembered what Trallex had told her and took a series of deep breaths, the cool, filtered air moving in and out of her lungs. The information began to filter, and she was able to block out anything beyond the room with great concentration. The voices trailed off and soon it was just Alva, feeling like she was trapped inside a hermetically sealed box with just her own mind. Her eyes illuminated the door in front of her, triggering it to slide open for her without her having to raise her hand or do much more than imagine the door opening. She stepped out into the sticky Krigan afternoon, leaning up against a composite railing that overlooked a small garden. The gardenias were in bloom, bringing her back to her youth when she’d traipse through the gardens in the palace without a care in the world. Now she was staring at the gardenias and the display in her head told her the genus, diameter, and history of the plant. Andlios felt less magical and more overwhelming and alien than it ever did before.