The Heights of Perdition

by C. S. Johnson

  He quickly and quietly shook off his angry grief. There were more important things to worry about, after all.

  It was only fitting that he would lead the crew down and steal the “hope” right out of New Hope.

  Emery waved over to one of the cadets, a pretty, blonde-haired girl named Alice, who immediately came forward. In her hands was a large black bag. As Alice neared Emery and Exton, he could see the glowing smile on her face.

  He sighed. Every year, more and more girls on the ship attempted to get his attention, and every year he found it more and more tiresome.

  “Thank you, Alice,” Emery said, saluting the girl as she reached for the bag. “That will be all.” Alice’s smile caved at being shooed away, but Emery paid no attention to her as she thrust the bag into Exton’s arms.

  As he hurried to catch it, Exton caught the look of triumph on his sister’s face. He decided to let her savor it. For now.

  “Well, there you go,” Emery retorted.

  He opened the bag and pulled out the familiar pirate hat. “You don’t think this makes me look dashing?” he asked, putting it on his head.

  “It’s a romantic notion,” Emery admitted, “but with the wig and the outfit, it’s hardly close to what I would call dashing.”

  “It goes well with the weaponry, though,” Exton told her, indicating the large portrait of Captain Chainsword’s iconic weapon on the capsule’s starboard side. “And it’s a nice tribute to Papa.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure he would agree with the chainsaw sword.”

  “He liked it when I made a smaller one when we were younger, when we would go collect wood for building houses and boats.”

  “I don’t think he intended you to actually threaten people with it.”

  “If you want to talk about actually threatening people, maybe I should send you down to have a nice chat with Dictator Osgood so he can tell you how he runs the States.”

  “Ha! I’d likely murder the man.”

  Exton sneered. “Good to see you’re not against using force where force is due, Em.”

  “We are called to protect,” Emery reminded him.

  “And that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to protect us.”

  “While provoking others.”

  “Well, there’s always a price to pay when it comes to our pleasures, isn’t there?” Exton asked. “Speaking of which, you did send out that message to Osgood, right?”

  “Yes, I did send the message,” Emery informed him. She frowned. “I’d hardly believe that this is a pleasure for you, Exton.”

  “Avenging our father is the only thing that can possibly give me any pleasure at all,” Exton argued. “Dressing up as a the ghost of a fearsome space pirate while we knock out their satellites and play games with their weapon systems is hardly what I would call fun, I’ll give you that, but there’s nothing else like it.” He tugged at the hat on his head, straightening it determinedly.

  “You need to find something more amusing to do, Exton,” Emery scolded. “Or maybe less amusing, depending.”

  “I’ll have to work on that.”

  Emery frowned. “Your cynicism is just awful to deal with some days, you know.”

  “My cynicism is the only thing that’s really working to save people,” Exton defended himself. “That’s the reason we have the Biovid and the Ark, if you recall.”

  “Your intentions might be noble, if they weren’t cloaked in causing so much trouble for the URS and everyone on Earth.”

  “Two things, Em. One, the URS has caused many more problems for Earth more than I have caused.”

  “They had a head start,” Emery objected.

  Exton ignored her. “And two, if I believed they were capable of change, do you think I would have gone through such drastic measures to fight them?”

  “They did kill Papa,” Emery reminded him. “That was enough of a reason for you to defect.”

  “And you as well.”

  “Yes, me as well.” Emery sighed. “But—”

  “Instead of this,” Exton said, “I could have infiltrated their ranks, picked off our father’s executioner, and worked to change the regime’s views. But not only did they rob us of our father once they killed him, all true hope for regeneration died with him. Papa was the idealist. They have no interest in letting people’s lives flourish; the URS just wants control, and we’ve seen how they’ve managed to keep it.”

  “I know,” Emery bit back. “But still—”

  “Still nothing.” Exton shook his head. “This is the best chance we have to change the fate of the world, along with our own. They are done listening to the people. We must force them to listen.”

  Emery threw up her hands in exasperation. “I know.”

  “Yes, and I know you don’t like combat. But we must fight. There are only two possible outcomes for us while we’re out here on the Perdition, and neither of them are fun.”

  “Only two?”

  “Yes,” Exton asserted. “We will beat them, or they destroy us. But either way, we will live free.”

  “There might be other outcomes,” Emery insisted. “We’re working on several other projects, and the Ecclesia has recruited several people for our cause.”

  “You’re Papa’s girl, through and through, with that idealism.”

  “Better than your cynicism.”

  “I disagree with that, but I will concede there’s always a third possibility of sabotage,” Exton considered. “That’s another reason the pirate shtick is a good cover.”

  “Really?” Emery snorted. “How’s that, exactly?”

  “The fear’s in the name, in the unknown.”

  Emery frowned. “I guess if we’re going to go, you’d better get ready for takeoff.” She nodded toward the bag and then, with one last sigh, headed off to start the launch.

  Exton felt his fingers grip the bag even more tightly. Anticipation pulsated through him, and he knew, for the briefest moment, why the Ecclesia believed in the miraculous.

  It was time.

  ♦5♦

  It was time.

  “Comrade St. Cloud!”

  Aerie flinched as she heard her name called out just as she managed to slip back into the education center.

  Looks like I’m not going to have time to drop Moona off somewhere safe, she thought with a grimace. She fervently hoped none of the Generals would notice the slight bulge in the side of her uniform as she made her way to the conference room.

  She spied Brock in the crowd, talking with all of his fans excitedly. No doubt reveling in his new position in the military academy, she thought.

  For a small second, she considered dropping Moona off with him, but immediately thought better of it.

  He’d probably turn me in at this rate.

  Tasting bile as she recalled their earlier conversation, Aerie strutted past him and his friends, blatantly ignoring them as she headed toward the small classroom where the Board of Generals would decide her fate.

  A PAR, a Performance Assessment Review, was necessary at the end of every year of education for each student of the URS. Members of the Board of Generals, along with a schoolmaster or instructor, examined her collective school file, with records ranging from primary school to the completion of her educational career. They would question her regarding classwork, behavior, expectations, and federal laws.

  After the final year, her eighteenth year, the Board would collectively consider and decide a future for her. She could end up in the working field, furthering her education, or going into the military.

  Given her scores in her training and academic grades, Aerie rightfully anticipated a spot at the New Hope Military Academy. I could even be assigned as one of the Emergency Responders, too, she recalled, thinking of Osgood’s speech at the graduation ceremony.

  Her assurance increased as three top Generals—including her father—asked questions she answered with confidence and aplomb.

  Aerie’s first dose
of doubt came when her general education teacher, Master Harrick, cleared her throat and spoke up at the end of the questioning.

  Master Harrick did not have to raise her voice to command attention. As she stood, each of the generals seated around their table looked to her in expectancy.

  “Comrade St. Cloud has been an excellent student when it comes to academia. This is part of the reason, rather than support her in her decision to pursue a military career path, I decline in favor of sending her to a university for further study.”

  Aerie smiled in relief when General St. Cloud, her father, frowned. “I do not agree.”

  I’ll pay Master Harrick back for her impertinence one day, Aerie vowed angrily and silently, as the Master Instructor once more took her seat.

  She was glad that her father had stood up against the teacher.

  The General continued, “I recommend Comrade St. Cloud for immediate entrance into the working class.”

  “What?” Aerie gasped. The teacher’s betrayal she could handle, but the General’s denouncement of her dream was too much for her to remain silent. “But I don’t want to do that!”

  The other two generals suddenly nodded. “I see what you meant earlier,” the one muttered as he thoughtfully stroked his beard.

  “What are you talking about?” Aerie demanded to know.

  “Comrade,” General St. Cloud intoned. “Your PAR examination has revealed you have had several slips in character and your decision-making process. In the past, this was generally regarded as a phase, but this year in school has shown you are reluctant to grow out of it.”

  “I still don’t know what you are talking about,” Aerie grumbled.

  “Your final presentation to the board would be a good starting point.” His eyes, a shade darker than her own amber-colored eyes, burned into her.

  “That’s ridiculous. All reports pointed to disastrous outcomes if we started breeding poisons into pollen. My research on promoting plant growth in hostile environments was much safer and beneficial to society.” She took a step forward daringly. She knew they had to see her courage and insight for survival, rather than destruction, would serve the nation better.

  “That’s not the point of an assignment,” the other general, General Lowell, said. “The point of an assignment is to follow orders. How would this look on a battlefield if we were to command you?”

  “In the heat of battle, just like in doing research, circumstances change,” Aerie argued. “You would do better to have someone who can react and adapt to the battlefield than someone who is blindly awaiting orders!”

  “That’s enough, Comrade!”

  “You are students of warfare, not students in botany and horticulture. Weaponizing pollen seeds to spout poison would easily cause the collapse of all plant life and humanity. Allowing plants to adapt to the hostile environment on the surface of the earth, and helping them to grow, can help return the Earth to a fully habitable world. Several of my samples can even be used to help reverse-engineer cures for plant toxins. My project is not only more beneficial, but it went well beyond the requirements for the one given to me.”

  “Comrade St. Cloud has done exceptionally well in her gardening and horticulture electives,” Master Harrick inserted, before the generals could respond.

  “There is no need for a first-year working class graduate to worry about bigger projects,” another general, General Zike, announced. “I also do not agree with your decision to pursue a military career at this time.”

  “Nor do I,” General St. Cloud agreed.

  “I see the merit of your demeanor,” the final general, General Lowell, admitted, still rubbing his beard. “But following orders are foundational to any military concern. You have been training for this from the first day you entered into the Secondary Education Center’s program at twelve.” He nodded toward the Master Instructor. “I agree with your instructor in this. Further education might help society more than your combat skills—”

  “But my combat skills are in the top ten percent of my class!” Aerie argued. “Top five, even.”

  General Lowell eyed her grievously. “As I was saying, you might benefit the URS more by going to university to learn more than going into the combat field, where your training has left much to be desired.” His gaze softened. “Your research, while it is incorrect and against the rules, is underscored by a deep passion. I have to confess, I do not understand your desire to go to the military. While you are proficient in combat, your efforts are markedly different from your scholarly pursuits, especially in your scientific courses.”

  Aerie slumped over and stepped back, her posture one of defeat while her disposition was one of defiance. Strands of her hair, shining like fire against the bright lighting, caught her eye; the pins she’d meticulously stabbed into her head that morning were coming loose, along with her patience.

  “If her disposition is this combative, perhaps we should consider the Reeducation Program,” General Zike commented.

  Aerie’s eyes shot up, burning with rage as she looked at the man sitting next to her father.

  Reeducation was a program designed for the most difficult of students. They were rigorously given repetitive orders until their full will was broken and given over to the State. And done so rightfully, Aerie added to herself, more out of reluctant duty than personal agreement.

  “Such a process is likely too extreme,” General St. Cloud observed calmly.

  Aerie said nothing; she thought he’d taken her side against the Master Instructor earlier, only to find out he was ready to punish her even more severely. She doubted he was actually trying to help her this time.

  There is no point in getting disappointed more than you have to, Aerie decided.

  “I advocate for placing her in the Communication Sector,” General St. Cloud proposed. “Relaying information, finding solutions for different parties, and following instructions are all critical skills. We could easily have her learn her place while allowing her to fulfill her desire for more autonomy.”

  Aerie watched as the rest of the General Board shuttered, no doubt at the thought of personal responsibility.

  The Master Instructor was the only one who nodded in agreement. “Her mind, while proficient in her studies, is unaccustomed to outside discipline. Working in the Communication Sector would help provide the necessary structure she would need to become a beneficial soldier later on,” the teacher theorized. “Not to mention, working in that sector, with the demand for addressing complaints and concerns from the different regions of the State, she might overcome her persistent propensity to daydream.”

  Anger and shame reddened Aerie’s cheeks, as several memories of getting punished for daydreaming in class automatically ran through her mind.

  The General nodded. “It is another trait of hers that is ill-suited for combat and military life.”

  Aerie felt the last of her optimism crumble. Rage and anger, injustice and defeat, all took their toll on her as she stood there.

  There has to be a way out of this. I am not going to do this on their terms.

  She stepped forward once more. “Generals, I shall accept your decision.” And then, without waiting to be dismissed, without saluting anyone, she turned on her heel and headed out the door.

  Regret sank in as soon as the door shut behind her; she argued with herself, finally deciding it was okay to allow herself a form of tame revolt.

  Besides, Aerie thought, it wasn’t as if she would have a choice to follow through on their decision. At least this way she could claim it was her choosing, rather than their commanding.

  Wouldn’t it be nice to believe this was a way to have some freedom? Aerie thought deviously. Freedom, or personal responsibility, was strongly discouraged by the State. When freedom was present, there was always the chance something could go wrong.

  Aerie agreed with that, but the more she visited the world on the topside of the soil, the more she suspected freedom wasn’t as bad as the Generals and
Dictator Osgood made it sound.

  Of course, she recalled bitterly, there were people like Captain Chainsword who had to ruin it for everyone else. Maybe if he wasn’t around, the URS could actually let people choose the careers they wanted, rather than allowing them to pursue the path they were most likely to succeed in.

  Immediate guilt set in.

  There is no need to be treasonous because of a rough day.

  A louder voice in the back of her head screamed that this was no mere “rough day,” and she was allowed to have thoughts of her own, independent of the State’s approval.

  Aren’t I? Aerie wondered, surprised she wasn’t sure of the answer.

  “Aeris!”

  The voice of the General behind her made her snap to attention. She stopped in her tracks, not daring to turn around to face him.

  He came up beside her and crossed his arms over his chest. “I suppose you think that was clever, leaving early?”

  “No, sir,” Aerie lied.

  “You’re lucky they all agreed Reeducation was too harsh of a punishment. Not to mention inefficient.”

  “I’m sorry to hear I caused disappointment.”

  “I’ve heard that line from you enough to know you don’t really mean it.”

  “What do we ever mean down here, anyway?” Aerie scoffed. “We’re told what to do, not why.”

  “Humanity has longed for these days, Aeris,” the General replied. His eyes narrowed with confident scorn. “The best life possible is not only easy to achieve, but it is fulfilling. And there is more to come.”

  “By following orders?” Aerie asked. She wrinkled her nose. “How would you even know that to be true?”

  “The State says it is true, and it has kept us alive,” the General asserted. “We owe our allegiance to the State for everything it has done for us, and with the opportunities we have with the next stage of development, we will have even more, Aeris. Safety, resources, influence, and power. We owe more than our lives to the State for these, myself included. And you, too. As a result, you will obey your orders.”

  “But I don’t really want to go work in the Comms Sec,” Aerie argued. “I want to be free to make that choice myself.”