Heart of the Nebula

by Joe Vasicek

  At that moment, the lights flickered and shut off. Kyla screamed, and James drew his pistol. Fortunately, the emergency auxiliaries cut in a few moments later, but their meager light did little to make them feel any safer.

  “Stay calm,” James said. “It’s just a power shortage. We’re in deep space, so the solar collectors aren’t working at capacity.”

  “Will we survive?” his mother ask.

  “Of course,” he said, hoping that his confidence would reassure them. “We just have to stay calm and stay inside, just like the warning says.”

  I won’t let anything happen to you.

  “God help us,” his father said under his breath. James couldn’t help but agree.

  * * * * *

  Sara palmed open the door to her father’s office. She found him hunched over his computer terminal, a deep-set frown embedded in his face. He wordlessly motioned for her to come in and take a seat.

  She glanced around at the familiar furnishings. An authentic wooden bookshelf housed a number of synth-paper books, all of them antiques, while wall-screens cycled through spectacular images of deep space. An ornate Aurigan rug covered the gray floor tiles, giving the place an air of self-assurance that the rest of the Colony had since lost. The chairs in the room were made of soft brown leather, but she sat on the edge of hers, not allowing herself to get too comfortable.

  “Problems with the auxiliary reactors,” her father muttered, to himself as much as to her. “If we don’t get them online in the next few hours, we’re going to have to start rationing our energy. That’s not going to go over well.”

  Neither is the unilateral seizure of all the civilian broadcast channels.

  He looked more haggard than she could ever remember seeing him. The stoically pleasant mask he wore in public was gone, replaced by weariness and exasperation. His eyes were bloodshot with bags as large as her thumbnails, his jowled face frowning as if it were a permanent fixture. It disturbed her on some primal level to see him this way—it made her feel a little less safe, a little less secure.

  Was it the loss of Sara’s mother that made him feel this way—the fact that he would never see her again, just as Sara would never see her? She doubted it. If it had crossed his mind at all, he’d probably chosen to ignore it.

  “How is the curfew holding?” she asked.

  “Very well, surprisingly enough. There have been a few isolated incidents, but overall things have been quite peaceful.”

  “Considering how you mobilized every soldier in the Corps and all but imposed martial law, I’d hardly call that ‘surprising.’”

  He chuckled, probably because arguing with her would have taken too much effort.

  “In any case,” she continued, “what are we going to do now? You’ve all but ensured that the public is going to turn against us, and we haven’t even presented our plans for the exodus yet.”

  “That’s right,” he agreed. “When the people discover all the secrets I’ve been holding from them, they’ll turn all their rage and anger on me.”

  “So where do we go from here? What’s our game plan? You’re committing political suicide!”

  He rose to his feet and put a hand on her shoulder. “Sara, my dear, there comes a time when we all must make sacrifices for the greater good. I have spent my life in public service, but the people need more than that now.”

  “Like what?” she asked. “What else do they need?”

  “A villain.”

  His answer took her aback. She stared at him in shocked silence.

  “When the people realize that there’s no going back,” her father continued, “they will immediately look for a scapegoat: someone on whom they can lay the blame for all that they’ve lost. Only then will they be able to pick up the pieces and move on.”

  “But—but what about the exodus?” she asked, her voice shaking. “What about all that we’ve worked for?”

  “It will go forward, just as we have planned. We have no other choice now. It may take the people some time to realize that, but we have several months still before we arrive at Zeta Nabat. There will be time for them to come together.”

  “What if they don’t?”

  He grinned at her, the way he always did when he had an ace up his sleeve. Reflexively, Sara tensed.

  “Oh, they will, Sara. One way or another, a leader will rise up to galvanize them. And I think we both know who that leader will be.”

  James, she thought, startling herself. She looked at her father and frowned.

  “What makes you think that James will be the one to lead them?”

  “Because when the immediate crisis is over, they will remember him as the one who saved them. After all, he was the one who activated the jump drive just before the Hameji destroyed us—a brilliant move on your part, I must say.”

  How did you know about that?

  “Was that your plan from the beginning?” she asked instead.

  Her father sighed. “It wasn’t my primary plan, but it was one of the secondaries. If the Hameji had given us more time, perhaps we could have launched the exodus in an orderly democratic fashion. But now that’s no longer possible, it’s time to pass the torch.”

  Sara frowned. James hadn’t even been presented to the people yet, and already her father was talking about cultivating him as a figurehead to rally the people. Was there nothing her father didn’t have a finger in? Was there no one he wouldn’t manipulate?

  “Let me guess,” she said, folding her arms. “If James is the one to lead us through the exodus, then I’m supposed to be his handler.”

  “But of course, my dear. Have you seen the way he looks at you? With your feminine wiles, I’m sure you’ll be able to handle him.”

  Blood rushed to Sara’s cheeks. She masked it by sighing and rolling her eyes.

  “So much for political suicide.”

  “It’s only my legacy that I’m sacrificing. My work will not be finished until the last citizen safely boards the last colony ship to Chira. Only then will I step aside.”

  And until then, you’ll stop at nothing, Sara thought bitterly. Is there any line you won’t cross to get there?

  “I suppose you want me to go see James at my earliest convenience.”

  Her father chuckled, his weariness lifting ever so slightly. “You always were a perceptive child,” he said, patting her on the back. “You’re like your mother in that respect.”

  And I’ll never see her again, thanks to you.

  He glanced at her and frowned. “Is something the matter, dear? You look upset.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, shrugging him off. “If I’m going to see James, I’d better get going.”

  “We’ve all had a very hard day, dear. If you need some time to—”

  “I told you, I’m fine.”

  She left before her father could stop her, and before she accidentally said something that she’d later regret. Exodus or not, she would show her father that she wasn’t like him.

  * * * * *

  “That sure is convenient,” Adam muttered. “Switching off the power and cutting us off from the localnet just when we all need it the most. If I were the patrician and I wanted to set myself up as a dictator, that’s exactly what I’d do.”

  James groaned. “Dad, will you give it a rest? I told you everything I know already, and I know more than just about anyone else.”

  “The patrician is using you, son. Can’t you see that? You’re being played for a pawn.”

  That’s not true, James thought. Still, he wasn’t entirely sure. He had to admit, what the patrician was doing looked pretty bad. The Colony was supposed to be a perfect techno-democracy, where every civic decision was made by the voice of the General Assembly. To keep the station jump drive a secret was bad enough, but to seize control of the civilian broadcast channels, impose a station-wide curfew, and enforce it by martial law—that was grounds for impeachment. And if the patrician went down, James would almost certainly be implicated. After a
ll, he was the one who had pulled the switch.

  “I did what I had to do,” he tried to argue. “The Hameji had just come down with a battle fleet, and were about to destroy us. Jumping out was the only defense we had.”

  “And that’s exactly what the patrician wanted.”

  “The patrician isn’t out to become a dictator, Dad. He’s trying to save us.”

  “And robbing us of our freedoms in the process.”

  “Dear, please,” said Jessica. “Fighting about this isn’t going to do good to anyone.”

  “Thank you,” said James, nodded at her.

  On the seat cushion beside her, Kyla hugged her knees and stared at the opposite wall. In the dim light of the emergency auxiliaries, she looked almost catatonic.

  What if Dad’s right? James thought doubtfully. What if the patrician is just as much of a wolf as the Hameji? Worse things had certainly been done in the name of protection. When it came down to it, there wasn’t much of a difference between the wolves and the sheepdogs—James of all people knew that.

  “I never thought I’d see the day when my own son closed ranks with the centralists,” said Adam, shaking his head. “I knew there was a risk when we let you join the Defense Corps, but—”

  “Dear!”

  At that moment, someone pounded on the door. James leaped to his feet and raised his pistol, while the others instantly went still.

  “James?” a muffled voice came from the other side. “Can you hear me? It’s Sara.”

  Sara? James wondered. What’s she doing here?

  He palmed open the door and ushered her quickly inside. The corridor outside was empty, but he still kept his pistol drawn until the door was shut and locked. Only then did he return it to its holster.

  “Good evening, James. Are you doing well?”

  “How did you know I was here?” he asked.

  She pointed at his wrist console, which was still on. “I traced your signal through the public channels. But even without that, I figured you’d head back to your parents as soon as things got bad.”

  James’s cheeks reddened, and he hastily shut the wrist console off.

  “Who is this?” his father asked, frowning. “James?”

  “Dad, this is Sara Galbraith-Dickson, the patrician’s daughter. Sara, this is my father, Adam.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” said Sara, nodding politely. His father’s reaction was noticeably cold.

  “Is this one of your co-conspirators?”

  “Adam!” his mother cried.

  “James, I need to speak with you,” Sara said under her breath. If she was insulted by his father’s rudeness, she had chosen to ignore it.

  “Right,” said James. He turned to his parents. “Sara and I need to talk privately for a moment.”

  “I’m sure you do,” said Adam, folding his arms.

  “I’m terribly sorry about the mess that we’ve all found ourselves in,” said Sara. “I’m sure that James has told you everything by now. Please be assured, my father is doing all he can to restore power and return the network to operational status.” Her voice was calm and diplomatic, with a soothing effect that diffused the tension at once.

  Adam narrowed his eyes at her. “What have you people done to my son?”

  “Nothing, Dad,” said James, stepping between them. “Come on, Sara, let’s get away from here. We’ll be in the, uh, bedroom at the end of the hall. Let us know if anyone else tries to come in.”

  Before his father could protest, he took Sara by the arm and led her into the master bedroom—the only other room in the small apartment where they could be alone behind closed doors. It wasn’t until they were inside that James realized how it might be awkward. Still, he was too exhausted to care.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  Sara took a deep breath and pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. Was she nervous? James couldn’t remember seeing her like this before—something was definitely bothering her.

  “There’s something I should tell you,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

  Is it something I did? Am I in trouble?

  “Uh, yeah?” he asked. Words failed him, like they so often did in her presence.

  “There’s no easy way to put it, so I might as well come out and tell you everything,” she said, the words pouring out of her in a torrent. “My father knows that the people aren’t going to follow him after what he’s done today. Imposing a curfew, sending out the troops—”

  “He only did what had to be done.”

  “I know that, and you know that, but the people aren’t going to see it that way. He expects them to blame him for everything, which means that he can no longer lead. That’s where you come in, James. We need to you to lead.”

  James frowned. “Why would the people follow me?”

  “Because you’re the one who saved us. When the Hameji attacked, you were the one who pulled the switch. You’re also the one who saved the delegation at the conference. The people need someone they can look to as a protector, and for better or worse, that’s you. If you play things right, you might even rise to be the next patrician.”

  She was looking straight at him now, in a way that made him feel rather uncomfortable. He shifted uneasily on the bedspread, his legs suddenly feeling weak.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “To warn you,” she said, sitting down next to him. “Do you know what my father wanted me to do?” Her eyes were so intense that they practically captivated him.

  “Uh,” he said, not sure how to respond. It had been a while since she’d been this close to him. Her smell was pleasant and familiar, and her blouse was partially open, so that he could just barely—

  “Are you even listening?”

  “Of course,” he said quickly—too quickly. “You said, uh, your father thinks the people will, ah, look up to me, and…”

  She shook her head. “My father had it all planned out so perfectly. I could have done it, too.”

  “Done what?”

  “Wrapped you around my finger, so that you’d do everything I wanted. He wanted me to seduce you, so that we could use you to accomplish our plans.”

  James’s arms tensed, and a chill ran down his back. He edged away from her, as if she’d just turned into a monster before his eyes. In some ways, perhaps she had.

  “James—please, don’t be upset with me. I’m telling you this because I don’t want to do that.”

  “But your father does.”

  “My father wants a lot from me,” she said with a snarl. “I doubt I’ll ever live up to all of his expectations—and now, I no longer want to.”

  What’s going on?

  “Uh, Sara? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry, you probably didn’t need to hear that. But before we get dragged any further into this mess, I just… I wanted to be honest. You understand, don’t you? Please tell me you understand.”

  She gave him such a pleading look that his heart couldn’t help but go out to her. He searched her eyes for any sign of deception, but saw none. Whatever else she was after, she was being sincere.

  “I think so, yeah,” he told her. “Thanks for coming clean.”

  “You mean that?”

  “Of course. But your father—”

  “Let’s not talk about my father right now. What are you going to do, now that you know his plans for you?”

  He thought for a second. “I don’t know. Are you sure he has the right idea? I mean, I’m not exactly top brass material.”

  “The people won’t follow you because of your rank, they’ll follow you because of what you’ve done for them. And I know you, James—you won’t let them down.”

  She put an encouraging hand on his shoulder, and gave him an unexpected hug. He savored the feeling, rubbing her back as he returned the embrace. An idea suddenly struck him, and he leaped to his feet.

  “Lars—where’s Lars?�
��

  Sara frowned. “Lars Stewart? What do you want with him?”

  “I need to reconcile things with him. Will my parents be safe if I leave them?”

  “Yes, but—”

  Before she could finish her thought, he left the bedroom and hurried to the entry hall. The patter of her feet told him that she was close behind.

  “Are you going somewhere, dear?” his mother asked.

  “Sorry, Mom,” he said as he hastily put on his shoes. “I’ll be back again soon. I promise.”

  “Son—”

  But before anyone else could protest, he was already out the door, with Sara close behind.

  * * * * *

  “James, can we stop to think this through?” Sara pleaded as she struggled to keep up with him. The corridor was still deserted from the curfew, but unfortunately, none of the soldiers were here to stop him.

  “No,” he said, not even glancing over his shoulder at her. “This is something I need to take care of immediately.”

  They stopped at a door on the far end of the hallway. James palmed the access panel, and a chime sounded on the other side.

  “But James, Lars has more connections than anyone but my father. If you show him your hand—”

  “Lars is my friend. He won’t betray me.”

  Sara swallowed. I very much doubt that.

  She tried not to imagine how the news organizations were going to spin this. Rogue Commander Confronts Prominent Statesman in his Home. Alleged Savior of Colony Ambushes Former Best Friend. How was she going to put a positive spin on all the fallout? She didn’t think she could—

  The door hissed open, cutting off her panicked thoughts. Lars stared out at them, a look of undisguised hostility written on his face.

  “James.”

  “Mind if we come in?”

  Lars’s eyes narrowed as he glanced from James to Sara and back again.

  “Lars, we need to talk.”