Cydonia Rising

by Dave Walsh

  “C’mon, Old Man,” Loren shot him a mischievous smile. “You may be one of the most powerful men in the ‘verse, but I bet you can’t beat me at poker.”

  “Of all the stupid things that have endured throughout humanity,” O’Neil hefted out a sigh while he leaned over and picked up his cards, ”somehow poker has endured.”

  “That’s a defeatist attitude if I’ve ever heard one,” Loren turned to Trella who was sitting quietly staring at her hand. “How about you, Cystrange, we good with the rules?”

  “Yes, Mr. Jones.” She kept studying her cards. O’Neil could only imagine what kind of data she had buzzing through her, which would make this game just meant to pass the time turn into one big headache.

  “Alright, alright,” he held his hands up as if he was being accused of something. “I’m just lookin’ out, I know they don’t exactly play games on Cyngen or anything.”

  “We have an extensive knowledge of human history, Mr. Jones, including games such as these.”

  “You know,” Loren shook his head, “O’Neil and I aren’t jacked into any computers here, is this gonna be a fair fight or are you just going to make fools of us?”

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she said in her same flat tone, although O’Neil swore he could hear some snark bleeding through.

  “Well damn,” Loren slapped her knee, “this Cystrange has some spirit in ‘er!”

  “She sure does,” O’Neil said.

  Since he had arrived on Helgun, O’Neil had done his best to warm up to the Cydonian, especially considering her claim that Alva had not only been brought back to life, but was also involved in some sort of plot that Trallex had concocted to depose Cronus. They would be short on allies when they landed on Andlios and if Alva and Trallex were potential allies for them, they had to keep that in mind. Trella seemed innocent enough and like her intentions were pure, but Loren and O’Neil were keeping a close enough eye on her just in case.

  Their journey was uneventful, if not relaxed. Taking time to play games might have seemed trivial, but it helped to keep their minds off what would happen when they finally arrived. The closer they got to Andlios, the more tense things got aboard, though. Jace was mostly laid back and joking, but the closer they moved into the core, the more anxious he was, even if he was trying to hide it. Katrijn was spending more and more time in the cockpit with Jace just talking while O’Neil and Loren faced the hard facts of their mission and kept an eye on Trella. In all that time, though, O’Neil never found himself alone with her for too long.

  “Prime Minister O’Neil.” He looked up from the projections he was looking through to see Trella standing at the portal to his room.

  “Yes?” He looked up, taking his glasses off and rubbing his temples before placing them back on his face. “Trella, what can I do for you?”

  “I get the distinct impression that you do not trust me, Prime Minister O’Neil.” It had taken him a while to get used to the formality of how she addressed him; even if he was no longer prime minister and if everyone else was calling him whatever the hell they felt like, she stuck to formalities.

  “Oh.” He swallowed hard, motioning for her to enter his room. “Come in, have a seat, please.”

  “Thank you.” She entered the room and sat down on a small metal stool by the wall.

  “I’d offer you some tea, but my provisions are running pretty low at the moment and without stopping to refuel anywhere, I’m afraid I’m just about out,” he said. “I guess that makes me a bad host, unfortunately, but I don’t think you are interested in tea anyway, are you?”

  “With all due respect, prime—”

  He held his hand up to her, stopping her mid-sentence. “I’m not prime minister anymore. I might be again if all of this goes according to plan, but for right now I’m just Peter O’Neil.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. O’Neil,” it sounded forced, even through her even tone.

  “Anyway, what makes you think I don’t trust you, Trella?”

  “The fact that throughout this entire journey both Mr. Jones and yourself have taken a keen interest in me but have not probed much further into my life is a good place to start,” she said. “Also, not talking about anything of value around me.”

  “We are nervous, Trella.” He was telling the truth, albeit leaving a few details out on purpose. “We are heading back to Andlios with Katrijn and there is nothing Cronus wants more than his sister and myself wiped out of existence. I can trust Loren, I know that, but Jace is new and so are you. Katrijn seems to trust Jace just fine, but we just don’t know you that well. You seem fine, but, well, you understand.”

  “I do understand, Mr. O’Neil.”

  “Please, just Peter,” he said.

  “Okay, Peter, but there is something else…”

  “Oh?”

  “That is ignoring the elephant in the room here,” she said. Neither of them spoke for a while, O’Neil clearing his throat but letting her continue. “Alva is alive and is on Andlios right now.”

  “That is what you’ve told us, yes.”

  “This causes a significant problem for you if she succeeds, Peter.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “I believe you do because you are heading back with the intent of returning Katrijn to the throne, while Alva is already there on Andlios with Trallex’s plan in motion. I believe that I’m collateral in this to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

  “In a way, you aren’t wrong,” he said. “Your relationship with her is clearly strong or else you wouldn’t be here. I never thought Cydonians would even be capable of love, never mind almost openly admitting it…”

  “I do not believe I’ve ever expressed that—”

  “Regardless,” he interrupted her, “you are with us, she is there and you clearly care about her very much. She probably cares about you just as much and from what I remember of her, she has always been fiercely loyal.”

  “I had forgotten that you met her, Peter.”

  “Yeah.” He remembered that headstrong girl, who was dead set on navigating the war torn planet on her own. “The night before she was killed she stayed with me. I’ve always blamed myself for not forcing her to take a transport instead of moving on her own.”

  “You and I both know she is too stubborn to ever do anything like that.”

  “Yeah, I suppose so. That’s why she’s heading back to Andlios on some fool mission like she is. This isn’t about Katrijn and the Freeman name, this is about ensuring the health and safety of the Andlios Republic. It’s about what’s best for everyone, not just for a dynasty. It doesn’t matter one way or the other if it is Alva or Katrijn who gets it done, but as long as we get Cronus off of the throne, things can move on.”

  “What if you don’t agree with Trallex and his plans for the Republic?”

  The question hung in the air, forcing O’Neil to reflect on his uncomfortable thoughts of Trallex. He had known Trallex for many cycles now but had to admit that he found it difficult to trust him. “I’ll have to deal with that when it comes up,” he said. “One problem at a time, you know?”

  Kara

  Andal-3 was perhaps the oddest place Kara had ever lived, which was saying a lot after spending the first third of her life aboard a giant spaceship. The day/night cycles were difficult for her to adjust to and sleep very rarely ever lasted beyond a few hours. Hideo had offered her a few tips and suggested that she keep her blinds locked throughout the night, but the planet was so new and fascinating to her that she found it difficult not to want to stare out over the vast, lush forests. On top of that, her mind was occupied with all that was unfolding back on Andlios and what she could do to help.

  Jack had given her a few updates on Peter and Katrijn and she knew they were headed back to Andlios, which set her gears in motion. Cronus’s birthday celebration was a matter of weeks away and there was a huge event planned in Krigar to honor the emperor of the Andlios Republic, which of course Kara was invited to be in
attendance at. The invitation felt more like a demand than a request, but she ignored that knowing that she might be able to assist Peter and Katrijn better from Andlios than on Andal-3.

  “Are you all ready for the celebration of our beloved emperor?” Jack’s voice broke her from her reverie. She turned to see him stepping out of his transport, which was dotted with condensation.

  “Gods, Jack,” Kara laughed, placing her hand on her chest, “I didn’t hear you pull up.”

  “How could you not?” He slammed the door to the transport shut behind him.

  “I was just thinking, is all,” she said. “He’s still my son, you know.”

  “I know,” Jack said. “I forget that sometimes. I even forget that he’s human.”

  “So do I.” She grasped onto the rail she was leaning on with both hands and pushed herself back. “But there are still those memories from his childhood, when he was just so innocent and full of promise. I swear if I had known…”

  “How could you? We do the best we can in everything and sometimes the opposite happens. It’s not your fault, it was just the power that drove him mad.”

  “That’s one way of looking at it.”

  “Hideo and myself have always wanted kids, but,” he said, “science doesn’t exactly work out like that.”

  “Oh please. There are plenty of ways for two men to have a biological child. Science has come a long way and while there are still some who frown upon it, the Cydonians have taught us a lot about biological engineering and creating life outside a womb in a woman’s body, Jack.”

  “I know, I know,” he let out a sigh and leaned over the rail next to her, overlooking the rainforest. “It just never felt right, plus it was a good excuse for both of us, considering that we’ve both been so damned busy and neither of us can stop working.”

  “You have money, you have power, you could easily have someone look after the child for you.”

  “We thought of that,” he said. “It just didn’t feel right.”

  “It didn’t exactly work out well for us, either,” she scowled, thinking to her own shortcomings as a parent. They had both been there to help raise their children, but they did rely on their servants to help raise both Katrijn and Cronus.

  “Anyway,” Jack seemed embarrassed and quick to change the subject, “are you sure this is the right move?”

  “Peter is stubborn, we both know that, and he thinks that he can do everything on his own and chances are he has Katrijn believing the same thing.”

  “That sounds like Peter,” Jack said.

  “Jonah and he were so alike in many ways, but Peter was always the more level-headed of the two. If my Jonah had come up with this plan, I might be concerned, but knowing Peter, this will at least be partially thought through.”

  “We hope.”

  “We hope,” she said.

  “I know that you seem intent on this and all, Kara.” Jack leaned his elbows against the rail and turned back toward her. “But we can’t protect you if you aren’t on Andal-3. We can’t even do much for you here, but we’ve been able to keep you safe, at least. I know you want to help, but we can’t all get our hands dirty. Hideo and I do what we can from here, sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough, but getting caught won’t help anymore. I don’t know, Kara. I don’t trust Cronus and I don’t trust Giger here, they could have you killed if you crossed them.”

  “He’s my son,” she said, trying to convince herself that there was still a connection between her and Cronus. “If he wants me dead, he’ll have full access to me, but my appearance at his birthday celebration is a public image move. If I’m not there it’ll only make things worse. We need to take advantage of this opportunity, no matter the cost.”

  “Alright,” Jack said. “I’ll have your transport arranged to the spaceport and you’ll be back on your way to Andlios in the morning.”

  “Which morning?”

  “Sorry, I forgot that it still takes a while for newcomers to adjust; the second, full morning.”

  “I’m starting to like it here, actually.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s a strange place, that much is correct, but it still has that air of mystery to it, the same air of mystery that Andlios had when we first landed. That quickly faded, though, but Andal-3? If everything goes according to plan, I might just have to come back here sometime.”

  “We’ve become pretty comfortable here ourselves.”

  “I really can’t thank you and Hideo enough, Jack.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. We might not have known you as well as we’d like, but it’s easy to see that Katrijn wasn’t just the product of Jonah, but that she has a lot of her mother in her as well. That’s good because Jonah was a damned fool sometimes.”

  “Most of the time, actually.”

  021. Old Friends

  Alva

  I’m not sure I understand how you are back,” Oystein grunted, settling his large frame onto one of the bar stools. It was well after closing and the barkeep and a few of Oystein’s guards were the only ones left inside. The barkeep was cleaning up while the guards tended to the two who Alva had made a statement on. “I want to believe and I want to be happy, but dear Freyja.”

  “I know it’s tough to comprehend,” she said. “I’m still not entirely sure how it all happened, but I’m back here and I want to help.”

  “Was it the Cymages?”

  “Was what?”

  “Were they the ones that…” He paused for a moment, staring down into his half-empty mug. “…That brought you back?”

  “I guess,” she said. “I’m not sure how it happened or if I was ever really dead.”

  “You were dead, my girl, I saw it meself.”

  “Well, whatever.” She took a gulp of her own beer that was starting to grow warm. “I’m here and I want to help. I saw what you’ve been doing.”

  “I’m not going to say I don’t need the help, princess, but how do I explain that you are here? Your funeral was very public, lots of tears were shed.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Divine intervention? A gift from the gods?”

  “Aye,” he said. “That’d probably do with this lot. How do I know that you aren’t one of ‘em, though? Maybe there is some secret kill switch inside of ya that is secretly working some Cymage agenda?”

  “That’s not gonna happen, Oystein. I’m me, just 100% Alva. Nothing is different.”

  “You say that now…” he trailed off.

  “I say that and mean it. I want to do what I can to help the movement.”

  “I’m not gonna lie, then.” Oystein picked himself up, still as muscular as she remembered him from when she was younger, if not a bit older and perhaps grumpier. “It’d be nice to put you front and center out there instead of me. I’m an old warhorse now, princess, but you’d do a lot to help.”

  “So what can I do?”

  “Me an’ the boys here were preparing to go on a bit of a midnight raid tonight, hitting one of Boy Freeman’s sentry posts a few blocks down; I’m sure we could find something for ya to do there.”

  Oystein quickly put her to work helping load up a commercial transport out behind the bar. The Krigans were mostly younger men, not even old enough to grow full warbeards yet and all of them kept a safe distance from her. She could tell they were talking about her—her augmentations were able to amplify what they were saying. Oystein had told them she had risen and was chosen to come back and help them, which Alva thought was pretty funny, but the look on their faces told a different story. They were taking it seriously.

  “Hey,” she said. “Could you give me a hand with this?”

  “Oh, uh,” one of them stuttered nervously. “Sure, uh, Princess Alva, whatever you wish.”

  “Okay…” She was annoyed. The boy scurried over, helping her pick up the large roll of canvas and load it into the back of the truck. She slammed the door shut and the boy scurried off quickly, bowing to her while he left. “Gee, thanks.”

/>   “Everything goin’ well?” Oystein’s voice boomed throughout the dark alleyway.

  “Y-yes, sir,” another boy said.

  “Good, good.” Oystein plodded over to Alva, who was watching as they gathered up their weapons.

  “They are just boys, Oystein,” she said. “Are you sure they should be doing stuff like this?”

  “I’ve led boys into battle my whole life,” he snorted. “I’m not about to stop now. Plus, we have the risen embodiment of Freyja herself on our side.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she asked. “That’s what you’ve been telling them? No wonder they are so afraid of me.”

  “Tyr is a god to them, you are a goddess and here you are, risen from the dead. No longer folklore but reality, Princess Alva. Just let them be boys.”

  “Whatever,” she said. “Are we gonna do this or what?”

  “Aye. C’mon boys, let’s ride.”

  They all piled into the old transport, Alva sitting in the back on top of the giant rolled up canvas while the group of four boys sat across from her. The four were doing everything they could to avoid eye contact with her while the transport glided along the empty streets toward their location. Alva had turned her CyNet connection off, not feeling like she’d need it and that she could use a break from the deluge of data that was constantly streaming through her mind. If Alva was going to be a part of Oystein’s movement and help guide it in the right direction, it somehow felt wrong to be using Cydonian technology to help make that happen.

  The transport slowed down and everyone grew quiet, Oystein peering from the front seat toward the back. “Alright,” he said. “We do this like we always do it. We go in quiet, burn the fucker to the ground and leave the banner. Got it?”