by Liam Scott
“Yeah, maybe,” Atlas said.
The sergeant returned from where he had been off to the side, speaking softly into his handheld comm unit. He was wearing a warm-looking hat and his regime-issued coat, rubbing his hands together.
“That was space traffic control, we’re clear to take off,” he said.
“Don’t let it be months before I see you again, Johnny, or I’ll have to come and find you.” Grace told him sternly. She pulled him into a quick hug and kissed his cheek.
“I’ll be back soon for more of those cafe pancakes.”
“And Helene,” Grace teased lightly. Atlas looked away quickly to hide the smile on his face. He looked for her in the atrium lobby but she was nowhere to be seen and Axel had been insistent that they leave.
“Let her know I said bye, will you?” Atlas said and Grace nodded, smiling at him knowingly. Grace turned to Axel and threw herself into his arms. He caught her easily and slowly put his arms around her, lifting a hand to her hair. Atlas turned away, his face growing red. They talked quietly for a few moments and when Atlas turned back, Grace was already walking up to the lift, waving goodbye. He raised an eyebrow at Axel as they placed their bags in the ship and climbed inside.
“Don’t,” the sergeant said, his ears pinking. Atlas laughed and began piloting the ship out of the bay.
The sky above them was clear and the sun cut brightly through the ship’s view screen. Atlas could feel himself growing eager, every part of his body craving the endless black and burning stars. Axel leaned his seat back and looked into the cargo hold.
“So the samples are inside?” He asked, placing a hand on the lid of the research container.
“Yep, I made sure.” Atlas lied. His hand went to his rucksack, pressing against the glass of the test tubes inside. If Atlas were to get in trouble over them, he wanted the sergeant to be completely innocent and unaware. “We’ll near the moon base soon. I need to get a few things from my quarters and then we can head to Earth.”
Before the sergeant could reply, the ship’s comm buzzed to life and a commanding voice stole over the ship’s speakers. “By the orders of Captain Saros Redding, no ships shall leave or enter the atmosphere. Turn your vessel back to the Colony or you will be shot down. This is your last warning.”
“Technically it was our first warning,” Atlas pointed out. They were nearing the troposphere and he was loathing the idea of turning the ship around when he was this close to the cosmos. Axel had his stun gun in hand. A shabby vessel sped in front of them, it’s exterior looking cobbled together from various scraps.
“Pirates,” Axel grunted. Atlas reluctantly turned the ship around in mid-air and headed back to the Colony. Pirates weren’t known for their mercy or understanding and he didn’t want to take the chance that his ship might get damaged.
The other vessel led them back to the planet’s surface, “Like I don’t know the way,” Atlas grumbled.
Back in the hangar bay, other ships were being flown back into the interior and the bay doors were slowly closing. Atlas flew the Landho through the small space and landed her with ease. Neither of them got out of the ship as various people dressed in leathers and furs, with old-style stun guns on their hips. They motioned for Atlas to get out and Axel followed, covering his back. Atlas slung his rucksack over his shoulder casually and hoped that none of the glass tubes cracked inside. They were led to the atrium, where it seemed every member of the Red Colony was being held captive, their kidnappers holding stun guns pointed at the crowd. In the middle of the chaos, Atlas spotted Helene and Grace, huddled together and looking disgruntled.
“Are you guys okay?” Atlas asked as he reached them, looking them over for any sign of injury.
“We’re fine,” Helene replied hotly. “But these idiots won’t let us leave. They want the samples.”
“What the hell is so important in that soil that a marauding band of space pirates kidnapped an entire colony to find them?” Atlas said. His rucksack sat heavy on his back. Axel shrugged, looking vigilant.
“Well now, don’t insult us,” a boisterous voice called over the rising cacophony of distressed sound in the atrium. “We’re much more than that.”
Atlas turned to see a tall man saunter over, his long red hair pulled back in a ponytail and a wicked grin on his face. There was something familiar about him, a nagging sense of something that Atlas recognized.
“John Atlas?” The man said, looking pleasantly surprised. “How long has it been?”
Suddenly, Atlas saw the man clearly from years ago. His face had grown slimmer and a scruff of a beard had spread over his jaw but it was him. Atlas remembered running down the halls of his father’s mansion, the redheaded boy at his heels, and flying through the sky with him in the boy’s ship, their laughter filling the cockpit.
“Saros Redding,” Atlas breathed.
“Captain,” Saros corrected. “But yes, old friend, it’s me.”
“You’re friends with a pirate?” Helene whispered. “Why am I not surprised?”
“We’re not friends, we just grew up together.”
“Yes,” Saros agreed loudly, speaking to the entire atrium. “We lounged in our golden castles and stepped on the lesser beings, unbothered by the failing world. Oh, hello Grace,”
Grace waved awkwardly from behind Axel and Atlas rolled his eyes at the dramatics.
“You know as well as I do how our lives turned out. No reason to be bitter about it now.”
“Oh?” Saros said, stepping closer to Atlas, his laced boots squeaking on the metallic floor. “I know all about you, Atlas. You fly around, pretending to be someone you’re not while your father conquers the Earth. Now, who’s bitter?”
“The Shadow Regime are the ones causing trouble on Earth,” Grace said stubbornly. “They want the entire planet to themselves.”
“Not last I heard, sweetheart,” Saros replied. Grace shook her head and the sergeant pushed her further behind him.
“What do you want?” Helene said, even though she knew.
“Well, gorgeous, I’d like to get my hands on those soil deposits, if you please.” He held his hand out to her and she raised an eyebrow.
“They’re back at the labs, you can go get them yourself.” Atlas realized that she was trying to persuade him and his small group of followers to leave the atrium so that they could escape but Saros just threw his head back laughing.
“Do I look that stupid?”
“Do you really want me to answer?” Helene replied snidely. Saros grinned.
“I’ll get them!” A familiar voice interrupted. Dr. Lee had broken away from the crowd and was standing behind Saros, his hands shaking. Helene made a sound of disagreement and tried to stop him. “It’s all right, Dr. Riley. I’ll be fine.” They both knew there were no samples inside the lab but Atlas realized, despite his lies, Dr. Lee would rather walk into gunfire himself than see Helene hurt.
“Go on then, doc.” Saros said and the women to his left pointed a gun at the scientist, urging him out of the atrium and into a long corridor. They returned in minutes, empty-handed. Atlas brushed a hand over his rucksack discreetly. “Well?” Saros blurted.
“Nothing there,” the woman said, shoving the doctor to the floor.
“Dr. Lee-!” Helene said, jerking forward. Atlas put a hand on her arm and shook his head.
Saros strode around the atrium languidly, stopping every once in a while to point his stun gun at one of his frightened captors. Once he had made it back to Atlas and the others, he holstered the gun and shook his head, like he was disappointed.
“Someone in this building knows where those test tubes are and I want to know who,” he said. “We heard talk that a transport vessel was taking them to Earth. Now, who was the pilot?”
Atlas reminded himself to stay calm and Grace pressed a hand to his back in solidarity.
“Atlas,” Saros came over to him, looking him up and down. “You’re a transport pilot. Any ideas?”
“About your stupid outfit or just in general?” Atlas quipped. There was no reason to be nervous. Saros had no idea about what was in his rucksack and none of his friends knew either way.
“Ah, there’s the Atlas I knew and tolerated.”
“The transport vessel left before you arrived,” Atlas lied. “The samples are halfway to Earth by now.”
“See, I think you’re lying, old friend.”
“Still flying The Emily Randall?” Atlas said, changing the subject. Saros quirked his head in a peculiar way.
“You remembered that?”
“How could I forget your parent’s names?”
“Randall and Emily Redding,” Helene marveled, connecting the pieces. “Throats slit in their beds by bandits as they slept. Their young son was the only one to survive, escaping through the-”
“Window,” Saros finished. “Yes, it’s a wonderful bedtime story. Where are the samples?” He was growing impatient, his hand hovering over his gun.
“Why do you want them?” Axel said, surprising them all. Saros looked at him for the first time, a sly smile spread over his face.
“I want them, oh large one, so that no else can have them.” He said it slowly, pronouncing every word with inflection. Atlas rolled his eyes, shifting the rucksack on his back.
“That’s not a reason,” he said. Everyone in the atrium had shifted backwards away from the guns, pressing against walls. The chatter from the crowd had grown nonexistent and frightened faces watched them from the sidelines.
“I don’t need a reason,” Saros boasted. “Everyone in the Solar System wants those soil samples, why shouldn’t I?”
Atlas could agree with that sentiment, at least.
Chapter 8: The Alliance
For a moment, a loud buzzing started around the atrium, and then, with a flicker, all of the lights clicked off and the room was thrown into darkness. An immediate uproar started through the crowd around them and Atlas saw the pirates struggling to contain the masses.
“Really?” Atlas called above the noise. “Stumbling around in complete darkness won’t help you find the test tubes. I mean I get that drama is your thing, but isn’t this a little too much?”
But with the light from the windows, Atlas could see that Saros looked just as dumbfounded.
“This wasn’t me,” he said, affronted. “I would never do something so cliche. It must be faulty wiring in this run-down compound.”
All throughout the atrium, the crowd was pushing against their captors and one of the pirates shot their guns into the air, striking the domed ceiling. The people hushed for a moment and Saros made a slicing motion with his arms.
“Everyone, shut up!”
The room grew silent and Atlas felt Helene’s hand grasp his as he moved forward, trying to pull him back to her side. “It’s the auxiliary power.” She said in his ear. Atlas nodded.
“The electrical maintenance receptacle is downstairs, I’ll go activate the power source or flip on the generators,” Atlas said, pulling out of Helene’s grip.
Saros gripped his shoulder as he moved passed him, shaking his head.
“So you can get down there and escape through some back entrance?” He said.
“Someone has to, Saros. The artificial gravity only lasts for a few hours without the main power source and it’s already getting cold.”
Saros seemed to consider for a moment before he reluctantly agreed. “We’ll go together.”
Atlas looked back at the room as he followed Saros into the hall. Grace and Helene looked aggrieved, huddling close together in the spreading chill, and Axel stood stern, pressing a hand on Grace’s shoulder as if to hold her back from going after her brother.
The halls were pitch black and both men stumbled into the corridor. Saros pulled something from his long coat pocket and flipped a switch. A long beam of light illuminated the tall, dark hallway.
“Is that,” Atlas exclaimed, squinting at the little cylinder in Saros’ hand. “A flashlight?” He hadn’t seen one in years and even then, they were considered antique.
Saros shrugged, “or something like that.”
“C’mon, it’s this way.”
Saros followed him deeper into the compound, holding his light source aloft. The long hallway led to a heavy door. Atlas pulled it open manually and they stepped through to a long flight of stairs. Saros made sure to keep Atlas in his line of sight at all times and Atlas heard his teeth chatter as they hurried down the stairs. Their footsteps clanked on the metal stairs and after many steps and a catwalk later, they finally came upon the lower levels of the power receptacle. Saros pointed the beam of light at the breakers. All seven were flipped off and the generators had been effectively unplugged.
“What?” Saros said as Atlas stared in confusion.
“Someone deliberately flipped the breakers,” he turned to Saros accusingly as he began flipping on the breakers. “Who else could’ve done it?”
“Are you accusing me again? I told you-”
The strap of Atlas’ rucksack caught on one of the breakers as he moved by and his bag was wrenched away from his shoulder. It dropped to the floor and one single test tube full of vermillion soil clinked noisily out of the bag, rolling away and stopping at Atlas’ boot.
Saros stared at the tube for a moment and then brought his gun up quickly, pointing it at Atlas. There was a wild look on his face and Atlas wondered momentarily if he would even get the chance to speak before Saros shot him down.
“Well, would you look at that?”
“Saros-”
“No,” Saros snapped, all traces of humor gone from his face. “Give me the samples or I kill you.”
“Kill me, then.” Atlas said, only a little uncertain of his conviction. “Something deeper is going on here, Saros, this is bigger than you think.”
“I don’t care.” Saros said.
“Look-”
Heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs and they both turned in surprise to see a very large figure standing at the bottom step. Saros lowered his gun abruptly in shock.
“Follow me, now,” a deep voice commanded. From the look on Saros’ face, it wasn’t one of his guys and Atlas thought he recognized the seal on the breast of his jacket. He kicked the tube discreetly with his foot, sliding it back into his rucksack with the others.
“Look, boss,” Atlas started. The man pointed a large gun at Saros as Atlas spoke, finger hovering over the trigger.
“Come with me, or I shoot him down right here,” Saros looked between Atlas and the gun, but Atlas knew he wouldn't beg for his life.
“Okay, okay,” Atlas said, putting his hands up. “Let’s go.”
From above, gunshots rang out, muffled by the walls and floors. Atlas and Saros looked at each other. Those weren’t stun guns. In some display of remembered childhood communication, Atlas cocked his head and Saros nodded. Atlas yanked the rucksack from the floor and they both took off running up the stairs before the man could raise his gun again. Atlas stumbled into his shoulder and he stammered further into the room as they escaped.
“Who was that?” Atlas gasped as they ran. Saros looked sideways at him.
“You think I know?”
“You held the entire Colony kidnapped and you-” huff “-expect me to believe that you don’t know anything about a second attack?”
“I don’t expect-” huff “-anything from you, but this has nothing to do with me.”
The flashlight in Saros’ hand bounced wildly over the walls and ceiling. Footsteps pounded behind them and Atlas grabbed his arm, pulling him into another hallway.
“Where is he? Is he still behind us?” Saros gasped, breathing heavily.
“I don’t know, we need to get back upstairs,” Atlas replied. Saros watched him sling the rucksack higher on his shoulder.
“What did you mean before, about something deeper?”
“I don’t know that either,” said Atlas. “Everyone wants these,” he shook the bag, “and I have no idea w
hy.”
“Well,” Saros rubbed his long fingers over his chin, pondering. “I was uh, acquiring, goods around the asteroid belt a few weeks ago when a research vessel passed by. Their comms were activated so I had my second-in-command hack into their systems. We heard a conversation between someone on board the ship,” Saros lowered his voice as footsteps passed by the side hallway and then continued in a whisper. “They were talking about soil samples on Mars. They went back and forth, and in the end, it was said that the samples could change the course of the planet and they were to be hidden on a lowly transport.” Saros smirked, “that would be you, I guess.”
Atlas sucked in a breath and wondered how it was that he tried to live his life under the radar and had instead been thrust into the spotlight like a puppet on a string.
“Who did the ship belong to? The Colony? The Shadow Regime?”
“It was hard to tell but it looked like the insignia on the hull was from The Alliance.”
Atlas took in the information, working to piece the random acts together. The corridor had grown quiet during their conversation and the gunfire had died down overhead.
“Where did you go,” Atlas asked. “After your parents were killed?” It was something he had wanted to know since his reunion with Saros in the atrium. Saros sighed, leaning back against the wall behind him.
“I didn’t know where to go. The first city I came to, I hitched a ride on a shipping freighter and got as far away from my home as possible. No one knew who I was and I made my way by working in shipping yards and back alley restaurants. Once I was of age, I joined a small group of marauders. Later, I became their captain. That’s pretty much it.” Saros shrugged.
“You’ve come a long way from “golden castles”,” Atlas commented wryly.
“We both have,” Saros grinned sideways at him. “Get tired of living the high life?”
“I got tired of living under the shadow of William Atlas.”
“Yeah,” Saros said, looking away.