by Dave Walsh
Jace rooted around in his pocket for his holoscanner and pulled it out, powering it back up and tossing it aside. He had done what he needed to do, now he needed to see if he had missed anything. The alarm on it made him jump, since he didn’t expect to hear from anyone. When he glanced down at it he saw a slew of messages from Katrijn, the last one standing out to him the most—I’m coming to find you. I’m sorry.
He couldn’t help but let out a sigh.
Katrijn
The air was thick with humidity and warm—much warmer than it was down inside the stronghold. It was almost indescribable for Katrijn to once again be standing out on the streets of Krigar after so many cycles on the run. This was her home, the place she was not only supposed to rule over, but also to nurture and help to grow into her father’s vision of the Andlios Republic. It was early summer so the trees and flowers were all in bloom, which was especially noticeable out near the tattered edges of the great city of Krigar. Loren had fallen asleep early, but Katrijn had waited a while before quietly sneaking out the door into the early evening.
The contrast between the broken down old factory and parking lot she found herself in and the great trees and bushes that had grown naturally out behind it was not lost on her. The farther out you went from the city, the more life both flourished and floundered. For a few kilometers there would be wildflowers, trees and animals everywhere until the sudden drop off where the wastes began. Then it was kilometers and kilometers of nothing but burnt soil and vast nothingness. Her father had described traversing those wastes when he had first arrived there with Alva, how they needed to take anti-radiation medications and to always be monitoring their radiation levels. That was still true now but fewer and fewer ever ventured out into those wastelands thanks to how vast the major cities had become, or if they did, it was via shielded transport.
Katrijn pulled out her holoscanner and tapped into the city’s map, with a marker from Loren’s tracking with the location of Jace’s holoscanner. The marker was deeper into the city, in fact, quite near the heart of the city in one of the nicer districts. Katrijn felt ashamed that she had forgotten the names of all of the districts in Krigar, something that she had been drilled on repeatedly by her father growing up, as he explained to her that it was important to know everything about their people. It later turned into knowing every sector of the Andlios Republic, down to the planets and moons they inhabited. She wracked her mind for the answer and remembered that it was called the Lynae District for the small blue flowers that grew natively there.
The Lynae District was a nice area, a shockingly nice area at that. She had never expected someone like Jace to live under such luxurious conditions considering how he had lived aboard the Pequod. The district was also a little over an hour and a half walk away, which she groaned at. Her first instinct was to call Loren and ask for him to find someone to drive her, but then remembered that she had snuck out in hopes of avoiding telling Loren about her flight from the stronghold. She hadn’t even remembered the name of the Lynae District, and that gnawed at her subconscious. She wanted to be a better ruler than Cronus was, not lazy and cutting corners already. The thought of walking throughout the city that she was forced to abandon and had forgotten lots about in her flight to freedom felt like a penance of sorts; apologizing to the people that she could have spared if she had just had the courage to stay.
All of this, of course, had to be kept away from Loren. There was enough on Loren’s plate and she was worried about him being able to handle the situation. There had been pressure on Loren before, that much was clear even through the playful demeanor, and with her uncle locked up, everything was resting on his shoulders now. It didn’t feel fair to Katrijn that everything was relying on one guy she had only met weeks prior, but situations like this were fluid and her uncle had done his best to account for everything.
Her walk through Krigar was illuminating, if not a bit scary. She had been concerned about running into security forces or even Cronus’s elite guards but found very little anywhere to be seen throughout more of the downtrodden areas of the city. What she saw instead were people, sick and tired looking people simply sitting around during midday looking destitute. While she knew that things were bad, never did she imagine that they would be this bad throughout the city. These people weren’t just sick and oppressed, they were abandoned completely. People within Krigar, the capital of the Andlios Republic, were forgotten about and left to starve and fend for themselves. The very thought made her stomach turn.
“Watch where you are going, girl’o,” an older man with a long grey beard and a sun-worn face said as Katrijn almost tripped over him.
“Oh, sorry,” she said.
“Sorry, huh?” He spat and picked himself up. He wasn’t a small man, by any means, but he didn’t look healthy, either. “Looks like you are lost bein’ ‘round here anyway if you ask me. What’s a sweet 'lil thing like you doin’ here? Does yer daddy know you’ve been slummin’ it?”
“No,” she said, the man immediately hitting a sore spot and her unable to hide her anger. “He’s dead.”
“Aww does that upset ye? In yer fancy clothes and flaxen hair, I’m sure this life has been cruel to you.”
“You don’t even know, old man.” She began walking away from him.
“Who said ye could leave? Can’t you see that I’m a poor man? I just need some help is all.”
“I can see that,” she said. “Just like I can see that you have no manners.”
“Manners?” he chortled, shifting to standing in front of her. “It’s folks like you that make me sick. I’m sure Cronus takes good care of you and yer own.”
“Fuck Cronus,” she snarled, pushing his hand away from her shoulder. “I’ve taken nothing from him and will see him fall.”
“I’m sure that ye will because ye all look out for folk like me, don’t ye?” He reached out and grabbed her shirt, pinning her against the wall. “This shirt could sell for a pretty penny, I suppose, don’t ye? I could feed meself for weeks off of it.”
“Or I could break your elbow and you’ll never be able to work again,” she said.
“Not like I can find any,” he said. “Matters ‘lil to us out here.” His grip tightened and she could feel eyes from all around on her, none coming to aid her.
“This isn’t going to end well,” she warned.
“Oh dearie,” he laughed. “Ain’t nothing ends well here.”
“I came here to help everyone, you know.” She took a grip of his wrist, not wanting to hurt him but seeing no other way. “I came here to help you.”
“I don’t want yer help!” he snarled. “I just want ye—AH!”
She tugged at his wrist, turning his arm over with a quick jerk before rotating in toward him, draping his arm over her shoulder. One quick motion later and she had pulled his arm down toward her chest, his elbow hyperextending over her shoulder before she heard the snap, pop and his bloodcurdling scream. She buried her other elbow into his stomach and sent him crashing to the pavement, crying out for help and clutching at his arm.
“Ye fuckin’ bitch!” he said, quickly recoiling while she approached. “No, no, don’t hurt me!”
“Fuck off,” she said before reaching into her pocket and tossing a few loose credits down at him. “Call yourself a doctor and don’t let that heal wrong or you’ll never be able to use it again.”
She had drawn enough attention to herself already and she quickly turned and picked up her pace heading toward the Lynae District where Jace was. Her head was now swimming and her heart was pounding. She knew that things were bad, but actually encountering one of the downtrodden painted everything in an entirely different picture. They weren’t simply going to rally around Katrijn Freeman because she wasn’t Cronus or because she promised to be good to them. These people were far more damaged than she had ever imagined they would be and it was going to take a lot more than promises and money to fix the cycles of abuse. How could she possibly help these peo
ple if she couldn’t even relate to them? Not only had she failed her friends, but she had no connection to her home and its people anymore, although she was starting to doubt that she ever did. At least she hadn’t lost a step, she reminded herself.
By the time she arrived at the building where Jace’s holoscanner was broadcasting from, she was dotted in sweat, her shirt sticking to her back and her knives chafing against the lower part of her back. The building took her by surprise; she had known that it was in the Lynae District, but didn’t expect it to be so nice. Every district had its own sub-districts and even the nicer ones had cheaper housing for those who worked within said district but only made a working wage. The thought dawned on her that she considered Jace her good friend now, so much so that she found herself chasing after him, but she didn’t know anything about him, like why he lived in such a district and how he got such a nice home. What had he done for work before he acquired the Pequod?
Katrijn walked toward the door, waiting for them to open up only for them to stay closed. She looked around and saw a panel on the wall. She reached out and activated it, and the face of a dark-skinned girl with long curly hair appeared on the screen.
“Can I help you, ma'am?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m here to see Jace Krios.”
“Krios?” the girl asked, looking down at her own panel. “He does not seem to be expecting any visitors or else he would have told us.”
“It’s okay,” she smiled, very self aware of how sweaty she looked at that moment. “I’m a friend, just tell him that Kat is here.”
“I’m sorry, ma'am,” the woman shook her head. “But from our records, Mr. Krios is not here and hasn’t been in a very long time.”
“No, he’s there,” she said. “I tracked him here and—”
“Ma’am,” the girl said. “He has no appointments; don’t make me call security.”
“If I could just talk to him really quick I’m sure that—”
“Ma’am!” The girl raised her voice, the feed cutting out and Katrijn feeling the rage boil up inside of her.
“Gods dammit!” she shouted, motioning like she was going to kick the glass door only to catch herself and slink away from the door. She sat down on the steps, catching her breath and realized that she was an hour and a half away from Loren. “Gods dammit,” she said again. “Today is not my day.”
“Miss,” a gruff voice came from behind her, the doors open and two guards standing there with their hands on their holsters. “You are going to need to come with us.”
“What?” She picked herself up and began to back away. “No, no, I didn’t do anything, I was just leaving and—”
“Miss!” The one on the right was advancing on her. “Patrice in there told us a few troubling things, we need to talk to you for a bit, but—”
Katrijn quickly reached for her knives, but was exhausted and knew that she was getting sloppy. She pushed forward, jamming her shoulder into the one on her right, only for the one on her left to unholster his weapon and for her to feel a quick pinch followed by a pulse of energy that knocked her down to the ground. The next thing she knew she felt her hands being held behind her back and cuffs being slapped onto her wrists.
029. Systematic Failure
O’Neil
After a lifetime of always being in demand, it felt truly unsettling for O’Neil to find himself simply sitting and waiting. He was beginning to feel obsolete, like his time had come and gone, and now he was just a feeble old man without a purpose. Aboard the Omega Destiny, he was Captain Peter O’Neil, the man who was to lead everyone to the promised land of Omega. Things didn’t quite work out as they had planned, but when they did get to their new home, he was just as vital to society as the prime minister as he was as the captain. On Andlios he was Prime Minister Peter O’Neil, the most-feared and respected man in the whole Republic, known to some as the “shadow emperor.”
The thought of him being some sort of evil maniac with secret machinations to rule the known universe had always been amusing to him. The opportunity was there for him, in fact it was in front of him numerous times throughout his life. All it would have taken for O’Neil to seize power would be a few calls and uttering a few phrases and it would have all been in his command. Jonah was, at the time, the better option, though. Not because he was a great leader or even a wise leader but instead because he was a believer. Nobody had such blind faith in humanity and committed to an ill-formed plan like Jonah, yet people followed him at every step thanks to his enthusiasm and that unyielding belief.
O’Neil was at times himself that naive and silly in his beliefs and convictions, but he was more of a realist. There was a part of him that wanted to be like Jonah Freeman and to simply believe, but the cynicism always snuck into the back of his mind and came with the doubt. That was why he left the job of the public figurehead to someone else, it just didn’t suit him. Never mind that if he had been the figurehead of the Andlios Republic he’d probably be dead already. The emperor of the Andlios Republic having Cydonian augmentations to keep his heart pumping and lungs pushing air throughout his body was not exactly something that was seen as acceptable behavior. The people of the Andlios Republic had a long way to go before they’d accept the Cydonians, even if Cydonian tech could, in moderation, help improve the quality of life for everyone.
O’Neil’s augmentations just made his own life in the shadows make that much more sense. By living longer than his body had planned to let him live, he was able to help guide the future of the Andlios Republic. Of course, somewhere along the way everything went wrong and he was now residing inside a room in the palace under armed guard awaiting whatever Cronus and Giger would decide to be his fate. It felt ironic in a way that he had spent so much time dedicated to ensuring that other people would be alright and to fail as miserably as he had. The people of the Andlios Republic were not happy, nor were they taken care of and while he had slept at night by telling himself that he had done everything in his power, it still didn’t feel like enough. Now Katrijn and Loren were sitting inside a stronghold trying to figure out a way to hatch a plan to take over and he was just waiting.
The sound of the door opening took him off guard, breaking him from his thoughts only to look up and see Giger striding into the room. There was an awkward silence between the two while Giger stood straight and tall, staring down at his predecessor with a smirk on his face. O’Neil would love for nothing better than to drive his fist into Giger’s temple just to see his facial expression, but he restrained himself. “Prime minister,” he nodded.
“Yes,” Giger said apprehensively.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” O’Neil asked, trying to hide the disdain in his voice.
“I was thinking about what to do with you, Mr. O’Neil,” he began pacing. “A part of me thinks that we should make an example of you.”
“Oh?”
“But truly that would paint you in an important light, wouldn’t it? I’m not sure that is the right move here, Mr. O’Neil.”
“I’m not sure I care anymore, Mr. Giger—”
“That’s Prime Minister Giger,” he corrected him. “You’ll remember that. I promise you.”
“Prime Minister Giger,” he said. “I’ve devoted my life to the Andlios Republic and while you’ve advised Cronus I’ve watched it all crumble. At this point, I’m not sure that I want to be associated with any of this anymore.”
“Because you are a proud man, aren’t you Mr. O’Neil? You are a proud, proud man who has achieved so much while the rest of us have just been floundering around like fools, correct?”
“That’s exactly what—”
“That’s exactly the kind of thing a proud man would believe, Mr. O’Neil,” he stepped closer, whispering into his ear. “You see, Mr. O’Neil, I know your secret.”
“Secret?” O’Neil jerked back, Giger’s hand on his shoulder keeping him in place.
“Yes, you see…”
There was a quick sta
bbing pain in his chest, a shock wave ran through his body and O’Neil felt very weak like he was about to pass out. He glanced down at his chest and saw Giger’s hand covered with blood, the hilt of a knife in his hand, the blade buried deep inside of him. “What…What did you…”
“Calm down, calm down,” he hushed O’Neil, sharp pains jolting through his body while he slid the knife out, letting O’Neil tumble over into a heap. “You see, this is a weapon that we developed to defend against the Cymages. It is a knife that emits an electromagnetic pulse that disrupts electronic systems, much like the ones inside you. Oh yes, Mr. O’Neil,” he kneeled down next to O’Neil, taking out a rag and wiping the knife clean on it. “I’ve been monitoring this room and I’ve seen what’s inside you. Wouldn’t everyone love to know that the honorable Peter O’Neil was full of marvelous Cydonian technology?”
“Gods dammit,” O’Neil grunted, struggling to breathe.
“Oh suck it up, O’Neil,” Giger stood over him, a menacing figure for once, the knife still in his hand. “You’ll be fine. How long do you think you can live on a damaged ticker and lungs? I’m eagerly awaiting the results of this little experiment.”
“I need…” O’Neil was trying to pick himself up, but his body was failing. “I need tools, I need a doctor.”
“Here,” Giger tapped a few times on his holoscanner. “I’ll have them bring you some diagnostic tools, that’ll do, won’t it?”
“I can’t….” He was starting to finally catch his breath, but it felt like at least one of the lungs was punctured, so he took shallow breaths. “Not on my own.”
“That’s how we all come into this world and leave it, Mr. O’Neil,” Giger strode toward the door with a newfound confidence, sheathing the knife.
O’Neil tried to pull himself up but felt his strength faltering. A sound of footsteps from the door made him crane his neck to look out, seeing two guards walking in with a case. One of them dropped it down next to him without a word before both turned and walked away. “I can’t believe it,” he overheard one say to the other. “The Old Man turned himself into a Cymage? I guess they were right, we can’t trust him.”