Eden's Revenge (Eden Paradox Book 3)
Page 37
“Liar,” she said. “Anyway, I have other plans.”
He squatted next to her. This was the only vantage point from which to take in both Esperantia and Shimsha. He thought of the spiders, all this time Kalaran’s secret weapon.
“So, who’s your crew, besides my mother and Ramires?” Her voice had an edge.
“Well, not Kilaney, he plans to work with Xenic to bring the Mannekhi over to the Kalarash side.”
She idly plucked at the ground, uprooting tufts of grass.
Micah studied her. “Blake wants to stay here, to work with the spiders, he says he owes it to Glenda.”
She stared straight ahead.
“Vasquez will lead the militia here, and run things –”
“With me,” she said flatly.
Micah cocked his head. “Excuse me?”
She got up, dusted herself off, and gazed towards Silent Hill on the other side of the valley. “We Genners have been pretty stupid, considering how intelligent we are. I’m going to act as Genner liaison on the Council. It’s what Gabriel and Virginia would have wanted.” She turned to him, eyes fiery and misty at the same time. “I felt so useless on that ship. Louise killed Chahat-Me right in front of my eyes…”
Micah stood. “Petra, there was nothing –”
“I’m no warrior, I know that now. But here… people listen to me.” Her voice quietened. “Maybe I can make a difference. I’ve studied you over the years, how you ran the place.”
“So, you can avoid all my mistakes.” He smiled, and her strained look eased off, but only a little. She said no more. Micah decided on the direct approach. “Why are you angry with me, Petra?”
“Tell me your crew, Uncle, and stop saying who isn’t going or we’ll be here all night. I’m presuming your selection technique was not entirely a process of elimination?”
That was better, a return to form. “As well as Kat and Ramires, I’ve invited an Ossyrian, Vashta, especially as we learned the Alicians are planning to use Ossyrian genetic techniques on the captives. One of Xenic’s people, a woman named Aramisk, whom Kat trusts. She’ll prove useful as there are Mannekhi outposts between here and Savange.” He paused. She was looking away from him, trying to mask the tension inside.
“That leaves one,” she said.
He realised the source of her angst. “Rashid,” he said. “He’s been with Kalaran for a year –”
Petra turned her head, her face a mixture of confusion and relief. “What?”
He stood, walked up to her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I would not have chosen Pierre.”
She tried to brush his hands away. “You should have, he’s the obvious choice: Level Ten, hangs out with Rangers and Tla Beth. Christ, Micah, you’re a bloody fool.” She said it with tenderness.
He pulled her towards him. “I don’t know how long Pierre will stay with you, Petra, before the Kalarash call on him again, but I hope to bring both your mothers back before then.”
Micah had been something of a father toward her, but Pierre was back, and Micah wanted Petra to experience the real thing. “He’s been looking for you, Petra, and you still have a few weeks before Kat leaves with me.”
She nodded. “First, I have to ask you something.”
Micah had the feeling it wasn’t going to be an easy question.
“What are your real plans when you get to Savange?” She stared straight into his eyes.
Micah checked himself. He’d been worried that Kalaran, Jen or Blake might ask him; he’d not expected it from Petra. In the past few weeks he’d done a lot of thinking, and had come to an unassailable conclusion. He had faced Louise and Sister Esma before, and had learned enough about them to know how Alicians were wired. Kilaney and Ukrull had confirmed it when they questioned the two Alician prisoners. Kilaney hadn’t gotten much information out of them, whereas Ukrull had, though they hadn’t survived his interrogation. Micah now had detailed schematics of Savange and intel on where the captives were to be held, as well as the planet’s defences. But both Kilaney and Ukrull had confirmed the innate Alician hatred for humanity, the desire to erase mankind at any cost. The galaxy might be a big place, and it was tempting to think that there was room for everyone, but…
Before he could answer, she continued.
“I mean after you’ve rescued Antonia and the others. And don’t say ‘come home’, because I know you, Uncle. You’re hiding something.”
In some ways he was relieved; he had hidden it, and it would be good to tell somebody. He took a breath. “I’m going to neutralise the Alician threat for good. Take revenge for the billions they helped slaughter. I’m… going to destroy Savange.” He felt pressure in his chest and throat, and raised his voice. “They’re a perennial danger, Petra, and not just Louise. Their whole existence is predicated on exterminating us.”
Petra shook her head. “You’re talking genocide.”
“I’m talking about protecting our people, taking away the Alician threat for good.”
“It’s still genocide. The old, the young, children, mothers. It’s a very ugly word, don’t you think?”
“But –”
“Blake’s a soldier through and through. Even he wouldn’t go that far. Why don’t you go and ask him? In fact, why haven’t you discussed it with anyone else?”
Micah stared at her, then the ground. Why hadn’t he? He’d wanted to assume responsibility for this himself, not implicate anyone else.
“Look, Uncle, right now you’re hurting, in every way. But if you do this, you bring shame on all of us. Ask the dead. Ask –” Her voice cracked. “Ask Gabriel and Virginia if that’s what they really want.” She stood up, dusted off her pants. “Go ahead and kill Louise, Micah. You have my and the dead’s blessing, because she’s one sick bitch that needs to be put down. Bring back our people and send the Alicians a message they’ll never forget, so they’ll leave us alone for good. But no more than that, Micah. If you wipe them all out, there’s no place for you here. And I for one will never want to see you again. Am I being clear?”
He stared at her, a young girl no more, then nodded.
“You know, us Genners know all about survivor guilt; it’s practically hard-wired into us. So I recognise the symptoms. I think you came up here for a reason, and not just to find me. Sometimes you need to speak the words; thinking them isn’t the same thing.” She chewed her lip a moment. “And try to come back, Uncle. I don’t want to lose anyone else. As Pierre… as my father would say, keep your sang froid, and keep your head.” She turned and started her descent.
Micah watched her for a long time, mulling over her words. He’d felt his convictions had been made unassailable, but all his arguments just collapsed, undermined by that single ugly word. He would have to find another way. Walking over to Gabriel’s headstone, he knelt beside his and Virginia’s grave. “Petra just did you both proud; all of us.”
Micah’s anger had evaporated, but there was nothing to replace it, except a sucking, hollow feeling; grief began flooding in. In the past few weeks he’d not truly grieved for those lost during the battle, not shed a single tear. Speak the words, she’d said. His breathing became heavy, but this time he didn’t fight it, didn’t run from it or mask it with anger. He sat down, and leant back against Virginia’s tombstone, his fingers resting on the soil covering her grave, and hung his head. “I’m so sorry.”
It began to rain.
Blake and Micah gazed at the Scintarelli Scythe-ship hovering silently a foot off the ground like a massive, dark crescent, while they waited for Jen to arrive. There were no windows, protuberances or even ridges or exhaust holes anywhere on the smooth, matt black exterior. Where they stood, near one of the two ‘blunt ends’ as Blake had put it, the ship stretched upwards about four decks in human terms. Earlier, they had walked to the middle of the curved vessel, to the ‘sharp end’ that was about one deck high, where Micah presumed the bridge to be. The ship’s entire leading edge tapered to a razor’s width that he didn’t want to put
to the test with his finger. The vessel looked powerful enough to slice through another ship and remain intact. Jen had told him that the Scintarelli, legendary master ship-builders, hated all other ship designs so much they ensured their own could reap them like wheat. Evidently the Scintarelli wanted their ships to live up to their names.
Blake patted him on the shoulder, and almost grinned. “Looks mean, Micah.”
Standing at the rear end of the ship, Micah wanted to touch its dark hull, but Ukrull had been very clear on that matter, and so he and the gathered crowd stood away from the ship.
There were no visible signs of thrusters, engines, or gun ports, though he knew it had formidable weapons. When asked, Jen had confirmed that it had no teleportation – only Kalarash ships and Ukrull’s Ice Pick had such capability, as well as Ngank surgeons whose physiology was extraordinary even by galactic standards. But there were two heavily-armed Rapier shuttle-craft in the aft sections, which they could use to descend to Savange. Also, the Scythe’s shields were coated with a specific form of strange matter, impervious to anti-matter and most other weapons; something Hellera had added, apparently.
Jen carved her way through the throng, making a bee-line towards him. “Touch the craft, Micah,” she said in a business-like fashion. He stared at her a moment then walked toward the closest rear-end of the ship, the crowd stilling as he raised his hand and then pressed his right palm to the metal. It was cool, but quickly warmed to his body temperature. He felt something, almost heard something calling as if from far away, like the distant shriek of an eagle. His resident blurred into action, numbers and strange alphabets whirring through his mind’s eye. Images from the recent past flashed by in subliminal fashion for several minutes, before settling on Louise’s face when he’d last seen her, Antonia and Sandy, and the location of Savange on the holomap Jen had shown them three weeks earlier. He withdrew his hand, understanding – it was an intelligent ship, now attuned to his way of thinking, his goals, even his values and ethics. It would anticipate his needs, and never disappoint.
Micah stepped back and saw that the ship had changed colour to a deep blood red, with blue and violet serifs from an alien language. A name flushed onto its body in numerous human alphabets. Shiva, the Hindu god, the destroyer, but also the transformer, Micah recalled. Somehow, the ship conveyed the impression of being eager, ready for battle. He looked for Jen but she had moved off to join her partner Dimitri, and merely nodded back to him that her part in this was over for now. He had no doubt that she and Dimitri would have some mission from Kalaran, as would Ukrull and Pierre sooner or later. They were all being enlisted, he realised, as his vision swept in Blake, Kilaney and Xenic, Pierre, Petra and Vasquez, all caught up in their own war with the Alicians, within a far larger war with Qorall.
His crew – Ramires, Kat, Aramisk, the Ossyrian Vashta, and Rashid joined him, all wearing the cobalt flight suits of the same design as Blake’s original mission to Eden, the golden crest of Daedalus on the left chest pocket.
Micah raised his voice, addressing the crowd. “We haven’t had an easy time of it.” He looked around at the sea of faces, happy to see the Genners, normally in a separate group, standing with their parents. “We lost Earth and Eden, were nearly extinguished as a race. But we have prevailed, and fought off yet another attack. They’ve done their best to destroy us, and we’re still here. Our worst enemies have always been the Alicians, who originally betrayed us to the Q’Roth, and now they have stolen our loved ones.” Micah felt his own emotion stoking inside him again. “Well, no more. Now we take the fight to them, and when we return, there will be blood on our hands.”
Cheers and foot stomping erupted from the crowd. His gaze shifted to Petra, Pierre behind her, holding her. He raised his hand, and the noise died down. “We hope to be back soon, with those dear to us, dear to you. In the meantime, take care of each other.” His gaze fell upon Blake.
Micah cleared his throat, addressing everyone but also speaking directly to Blake. “Eighteen years ago I forced a decision on us, to save us, resulting in all children being Genned. I know many disagreed with this, and still do.”
Blake’s eyes narrowed.
“I have agreed with Kalaran that if we succeed in our mission, they will release us from this condition. We will have free choice again. Our children can be Genned, or not.” Everyone stared, silent. “Think about it while we’re gone.”
As people started murmuring, Petra dashed up to him. “Bravo, Uncle. I’ll keep that Council seat warm for you.”
He kissed her once on the cheek, then turned back towards Blake, Kilaney and Vasquez, all three of whom were standing to attention, saluting. The crowd hushed, and Micah and his crew saluted back, then he strode towards the ship, his crew following.
Out of the nearest blunt end of the ship an arched doorway opened, a ramp extending to the ground. As they marched up into the vein-like corridor, the hatch sealing silently behind them, enclosing them in its innards, Micah’s resolve solidified. He had three goals. Get the prisoners back, rescue or destroy the spider captive, and contain the Alician threat, gaining their respect in the only way they would learn – albeit without committing genocide. The ship had sensed it in him, too, and of the two meanings of the god Shiva, Micah knew which one applied.
Shiva had many weapons, but it had shown him one in particular, a Level Twelve device that would do the job. But it had to be deployed manually by someone on the ground. He fully intended to be standing with the weapon, right in front of Louise on Savange, when he activated it. The others would return to Esperia, and humanity would become the masters of their own destiny again. But Micah already knew that for him, this was going to be a one-way trip.
Acknowledgements
A special thanks to Dimitri Keramitas and Chris Vanier for in-depth reviewing at all stages of this novel, and other members of our Parisian writing group (MWP), Mary Ellen Gallagher, Gwyneth Hughes, Vivienne Vermes, Marie Houzelle and Jane Verwijs. Thanks to my ‘touchstone’ pre-readers Andy Kilner and Jacob Bergsteiger, SF writer Mike Formicelli for some great suggestions on scientific aspects, Gideon Roberton for some ‘scene direction’ hints, and of course my publisher at Summertime. Thanks also to SF writer Sophia MacDougall via literary agency Cornerstones for some excellent structural suggestions, the anonymous reviewer at Hilary Johnson Literary Consultancy, and SF writer Gary Gibson via Writers Workshop.
And last but by no means least, a special thanks to all those readers who kept asking me where on Earth (or elsewhere in the galaxy) they could get their hands on book three.
The Eden Paradox Series
The Eden Paradox
Eden’s Trial
Eden’s Revenge
Eden’s Endgame
The Eden Paradox by Barry Kirwan
A murder... a new planet mankind desperately needs... a thousand-year old conspiracy... What really awaits us on Eden? In a world beset by political turmoil, environmental collapse, and a predatory new religion, a recently discovered planet, Eden, is our last hope. But two missions have already failed to return. Blake and his crew lead the final attempt to bring back good news. Meanwhile back on Earth, Eden Mission analyst Micah Sanderson evades assassins, and tries to work out who he can trust, as he struggles in a race against time to unravel the Eden Paradox.
“From the first paragraph, Barry Kirwan takes the reader on a journey spanning space and time in a fluid, action-packed flow of images, thoughts and words...The reader is pulled into an all too real future with memorable and thought-provoking men and women leading the way..” Lydia Manx - The Piker Press
“With the art of a master swordsman, Mr. Kirwan carves out a tale of diabolical intent and our desperate struggle against both ourselves and an implacable, superior enemy. His characters are instantly involving. Each has a unique history and cultural background that is made clear through clever use of exposition and offhand remarks that really convince the reader that these are real people involved in a visceral struggle
for survival”. - MFormichelli (New York)
Eden’s Trial by Barry Kirwan
First contact did not go well. Survivors are fleeing Earth, into a hostile galaxy where alien intelligence and weaponry rule. Can a deserted planet offer refuge? Or will the genetically engineered Alicians finish the job started on Eden? While Blake fends off attacks, Micah seeks allies, but his plan backfires, and humanity finds itself on trial for its very right to exist.
This stunning sequel to The Eden Paradox launches us into political intrigue and an intergalactic war of survival.
Lightning fast. New worlds and new enemies entwined with the main characters nearly as closely as their lovers - Lydia Manx, Piker Press
A Science Fiction thriller with terrific images and revelations -Gary Gibson, author of The Shoal Sequence
The scale explodes to include multifarious alien races and civilizations with ancient scores to settle -Author and screenwriter Gideon Roberton
An exciting ride into an expanded universe. Kirwan strikes a great balance of keeping the story riveting while delving deeper into characters development - Mark DeNicuolo, FAA, USA
About Barry Kirwan
I was born in Farnborough, England, where I used to watch the fast-jet Red Arrows practice low-flying stunts. I fell in love first with science, then science fiction, reading the greats such as Asimov and Clarke. I then studied Psychology and majored in Human Reliability Assessment, which predicts accidents and how to avoid them, and ever since I've applied this approach to nuclear plants, offshore oil & gas platforms, and air traffic safety. But my passion for the past few years is writing science fiction, with a psychological angle, trying to figure out where we (humanity) are headed, and how different aliens could be, not just in looks, but in the way they think and communicate. This is what I explore in my Eden Series, and also in my short stories, which are available free on my website www.barrykirwan.com. I don't expect to sell a million books, just hope to get a few people excited by some of the ideas, worlds and characters I've created, and reflect about it all afterwards.