Heretic

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  “What are you doing?” Ch’len’s irritated voice came ahead of his waddling body.

  The Ch’kara appeared as he always did; with several layers of food around his mouth, a combination of snacks and tools hanging from his belts and a chest piece that wrapped around his neck, generating the constant cloud of methane around his head. The apparatus on his back functioned as a shield generator, though it was only strong enough to keep the toxic gases in, unlike his arse, which was more than happy to let everything out, much to Roland’s displeasure.

  Roland ignored the Ch’kara and continued to pick Lan-vid up. The manacles fit perfectly around his slender wrists - one organic and one mechanical - but the nanocelium could alter its size at any given time, should the sneaky alien attempt escape.

  Lan-vid spit oily, alien blood on the floor and wriggled in his manacles, testing their durability. Roland didn’t give him much attention, however, confident in the strength of the nanocelium. Instead, the bounty hunter tapped a holographic panel set against the wall and activated the draws inside, hiding numerous tools. For the most part, they were used to tinker with his gear or the ship, but today, Roland had other ideas in mind for them.

  “Why isn’t he dead?” Ch’len waved at the prisoner. “Bounty says dead. He’s useless to us alive!” The Ch’kara eyed the Shay suspiciously, his little eyes darting between Lan-vid and Roland. “Has this got something to do with that female? I went along with some of your craziness after the mayhem at Protocorps, you know, get it out of your system or whatever. But we made no money for over a month and you said you were done hunting what’s-his-name…”

  “Kel-var Tionis.” Roland watched Lan-vid’s face drop at the sound of the name.

  “Are you telling me that we’ve gone back to that shit?” Ch’len was becoming irate.

  “We never stopped.” Roland chose his first implement. “I just didn’t want you pecking my goddamn head in for a while.”

  Ch’len’s face froze in offence. “Is the bounty on him even real?”

  “Oh, it’s real alright. He’s made a few enemies in his line of work. Haven’t you Lanny?” Roland kicked the Shay in his feet.

  Ch’len’s tone took on a lighter note. “You’re gonna go back to all this for her? She died Roland. We were both there. Li’ara’s not coming-”

  “Maybe you should go back to the bridge, Len,” Roland interrupted. “Monitor for activity in the city. Once word gets out that a human has been spotted here, Sebula is going to be crawling with Conclave navy-types.”

  Ch’len dropped his head and sighed, before giving Lan-vid a lasting look of pity. “I’ll be on the bridge…”

  The bounty hunter could already feel himself slipping beneath layers of conditioning and training. He had to be detached for what came next, for what he had to become. At least that’s what he told himself. Roland didn’t like to think about the part of him that enjoyed what he did.

  Standing in front of the terrified Shay, Roland examined a torturous-looking blowtorch. “Lanny, this is gonna feel a little... weird.”

  Kel-var Tionis sat in his private office, hidden under the desolate surface of his homeworld, Shandar. The rest of his kind lived in the floating super-structures that formed a net around the planet’s atmosphere, as he once had. Those days were gone now, thanks to the humans...

  The Shay appeared as composed and regal as he ever did, but inside Kel-var was starting to unravel. For three months he had been forced to hide from Conclave authorities, who wanted to question him about the alien cube found at Protocorps. For centuries his company had used the cube as the Conclave’s central AI, granting them access to everything.

  All for what? he often asked himself. On the Starforge in the Helteron Cluster, Kel-var had seen how they grant ascension. The Terran, known as Malekk, had become something else, something twisted. Was that what awaited them all when the day finally came that his ancestors had been preparing for all this time?

  You’re just afraid, Kel-var told himself. He needed more faith, as his father and grandfather had. Ascending into something beyond the fragile organic sack to which he had been born into was all he had ever dreamed of, along with every other Shay. Kel-var looked up at his door, knowing that beyond it lay the control room to the Crucible, another ancient device created centuries ago, under the guidance of the cube.

  Activating the Crucible would be the true test of his faith. After it was switched on there would be no going back. The Conclave would go to war, but Kel-var knew they would thank him in the end, after every species had witnessed their magnificence.

  “Kel-var? Did you hear what I said?” Gor-van Tanar’s voice carried from the speakers built into his desk.

  The Protocorps board member floated above the surface of the table, five times smaller than his real size. As always he was shrouded in his red robes and shadowy hood. The two of them were the only ones still alive or free of the Conclave’s security. Two board members were dead and the other three arrested. They would reveal nothing, however; their faith demanded it. Plans had already been set in motion by Gor-van to have the three of them poisoned in their cells.

  “Kalian Gaines has entered the Starforge,” Gor-van repeated. “He will be half a galaxy away by now, in the Terran Empire. With him out of the picture and the daughter of Savrick dead, the humans are without their defenders. We should activate the Crucible now.”

  “We only activate the Crucible when they instruct us to.” Kel-var kept his tone even, keeping his insecurities to himself. “Malekk is seeing to the installation of the new cubes. All three Starforges will be operational soon.” Kel-var wanted to change the subject. “Any news of the Gomar prisoners?”

  “I am close to discovering the planet where they’re being kept,” Gor-van replied, his expression partially hidden and impossible to read. “High Charge Uthor has hidden them well.”

  “We are to inform Malekk as soon we know anything.” Kel-var wasn’t sure what the infected Terran would do with the information, but he knew the Gomar were a threat not to be taken lightly. Kel-var hesitated before asking his next question. “Has there been any progress with the bounty hunter?”

  Memories of the human rogue still haunted the Shay’s sleep. It was the closest he had ever come to death in his life of comfort and privilege. Roland North was proof that the human race was dangerous, regardless of whether they could move things with their mind. The bounty hunter was the reason Kel-var kept the lights on everywhere he went inside the Crucible’s complex. Seeing him waiting, sitting in the dark in his apartment had been terrifying.

  “Thanks to that Terran ship of his he’s been hard to track down,” Gor-van explained. “I may have found a way to trap him, however. I will know soon enough. Would you like to kill him yourself?” the Shay offered casually.

  Kel-var thought about the prospect for a moment. “No. Just kill him… slowly.”

  Ch’len glanced at the chronometer on his console and sighed, pressing his head back into the comfortable rest. It wasn’t long after he had left the Rackham’s cargo bay that the screaming began. Using the controls, that lay spread out in a semicircle around him, the Ch’kara sealed all the doors between the bridge and the bay. Every now and then he would check the feed to see if Roland was still laying into the Shay. It wasn’t easy to watch.

  With a wave of his stubby fingers, the section of console to his right came to life. Holograms in green and blue rose out of the shiny surface and relayed information about the outside world, a place Ch’len was happy to stay away from. Local security had been alerted to the incident in the bar and multiple reports made concerning a human masquerading as a Laronian. Tapping into the secure servers, attached to the nearest branch of Sebula’s planetary security, Ch’len examined where these reports were going and who was reading them.

  The Ch’kara sat forward in his chair and stared in disbelief at the dispersal rate of the reports. From some snotty young Trillik in admin to High Charge Uthor, the top of the navy. It w
as possible that Uthor had delivered this news to the Highclave themselves, but Ch’len pulled back the probing nanocelium. Up to now, it had been undetected, but he didn’t want to test the firewalls that surrounded the Highclaves’s personal security.

  Using the other side of the console, the Ch’kara pulled up a new set of holograms that had collated data from all the cameras in the city. Ch’len recognised a net when he saw one. The Sebula government appeared to have handed the matter over to Conclave security, who were now split into dozens of teams, each working their way through the city. It wouldn’t be long before they started checking the outdoor landing platforms.

  Pushing the hologram aside, the small alien expanded an image that had been two dimensional on the surface. It clearly showed the camera feed from their particular landing pad - with no ship on it. That would fool any techs looking for them, but not a physical team.

  The thought of it all made him stressed. Without thinking about it, Ch’len reached for the snacks on the edge of the console and filled his mouth with sticky treats. With sticky fingers, he couldn’t operate the console to inquire about his next thought.

  “Rackham…” Ch’len waited for the seductive female voice to reply.

  “Yes Ch’len?”

  “Are you connected to the local AI hub?” Every word came through a mouthful of food.

  “I am.”

  “Where’s the nearest Conclave ship?” He was thinking ahead to what might be a tight escape.

  After a moment’s pause, the ship replied, “There is a Nebula Class vessel in the Heti system, currently en route to Sebula.”

  “ETA?”

  “Three hours, give or take…”

  Ch’len sighed at the ship’s casual nature. Roland had given it too much attitude when creating its personality, not to mention changing all the features to human, forcing Ch’len to learn how humans kept time. A tap of his stubby finger brought up the feed to the Rackam’s bay, where Roland was apparently branding Lan-vid’s exposed torso.

  “Damn it, Roland…” Ch’len swore under his breath.

  Three human hours wasn’t a lot of time in Conclave terms. They needed to be clear of the system well before that Nebula Class vessel showed up. If he could, Ch’len would have keyed in the ignition code and taken the Rackham into deep space, but only Roland knew the code. The bounty hunter was quite specific about who controlled the ship. Ch’len snorted in amusement; if he left the Rackham, Roland wouldn’t know the first thing about operating it.

  After much deliberation - and several Novaarian pies - Ch’len decided to return to the cargo bay. The screams could be heard as he passed through the kitchen and only grew in pitch until he was standing in front of the bloody mess. Roland had stripped down to his vest, which was now splattered with blood and drenched in sweat, revealing his neon-green tattoos. The bay was horribly humid with the internal temperature cranked right up. A good deal of the tools was coated in blood, while a few others were still attached to Lan-vid in some way.

  “...No, really it’s a funny story.” Roland sounded tired and a little manic. “You see I had every which way planned out. There was no way Kel-var was walking back out of that apartment.”

  Ch’len sat on the edge of a crate and waited for Roland to finish telling the Shay his story - a story he was well acquainted with himself. He didn’t fancy interrupting him right now anyway.

  “He told me…” Roland glanced at Ch’len. “He insinuated that a friend of mine - an endangered species to boot - was still very much alive. Now just when I’ve got Kel-var all to myself, much like our little situation right now Lanny, an off-the-books team storms the apartment and rescues the little shit. Left me with a couple of shiners too... I know what you’re thinking,” Roland wagged a short blade in Lan-vid’s swollen face, “how could I not know about another team? Well, that same question went round and round my head. Drove me nuts!”

  Roland walked away to retrieve a new tool. Ch’len saw Lan-vid in all his bloody glory. Most of his cybernetic augments had been savagely ripped away, leaving the Shay a haggard ruin. Blood trickled down his pale skin and pooled on the floor around his only organic leg. Smoke rose from his back where the blowtorch had been applied. Ch’len adjusted the shield settings on his chest plate, filtering out the smells.

  “So I followed the breadcrumbs left by this off-the-books team. Mercenaries all.” Roland tested a pair of pliers in his hand to a dismayed-looking Lan-vid. “Funny thing about mercs; it doesn't matter what species they are, turns out they all have zero allegiance. If you apply just the right pressure,” Roland shoved the pliers into Lan-vid’s mouth and clamped them around his teeth, “all the answers come spilling out!” A quick tug pulled teeth and blood from the Shay’s mouth.

  Ch’len cringed and looked away, not enjoying the sounds Lan-vid made.

  “It took me a while to track them down, but one-by-one they all directed me to you; their broker. You see, I didn’t know about any other protection team because Kel-var wasn’t paying them. He pays for you to ensure a secondary team is always keeping an eye on him. It’s a clever system - no money trail. You appear on his books like any other accountant, but you’re so much more than that, aren’t you Lanny?” Roland looked over the grotesque husk of an alien. “Well maybe a little less now.”

  Ch’len cleared his throat. “We need to get out of here, like now. Just get the answer out of him so we can leave.”

  Lan-vid moaned something unintelligible and Roland smiled. “He told me what I needed to know hours ago. Set a course for Byzantial. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Ch’len couldn’t stop his mouth from falling open. “Are you shittin’ me pink-skin! He told you ages ago and you’ve had us sitting here with a target on our backs!”

  “Len…” Roland had a detached look to him. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Ch’len chewed over his response and decided against testing the bounty hunter. He gave Lan-vid one final look, knowing he would never see the Shay alive again.

  It was several minutes before Roland returned to his station on the bridge. He was wearing his usual clothes again, having cleaned the blood off his skin. Silence passed between them while they both checked over various systems.

  The Rackham lifted off after the nanocelium threads had retreated back into the ship. Without a sound, the storm clouds gave way to the height of Sebula’s atmosphere, which faded to a black and then a starry backdrop.

  “Len, it might be a little while before I catch the next bounty, so if you want to get off, Byzantial’s your stop.”

  Ch’len considered that statement for a moment, having thought about it a lot over the last three months. “I want to know if Li’ara is alive as well. I liked the way she spoke to you, like an asshole.” Ch’len activated the mag-plates in the cargo bay to keep the containers in place. “Besides, if I leave who's gonna keep you alive?” The Ch’kara hit the button to open the bay door, ejecting Lan-vid’s corpse into space.

  “Good point.” Roland had the smallest hint of a smile.

  The Rackham broke Sebula’s gravity well and jumped to sub-space.

  Chapter 4

  Captain Fey looked to have left reality behind, as she stood by the floor-to-ceiling window on the Nautallon’s observation deck. She looked out at the alien solar system in wonder, if a little lost in her thoughts. The captain couldn’t help but think about Kalian and where he might be right now. Who knew what remained of the ancient Terran Empire and its forgotten worlds. Having seen the trouble Mr. Gaines usually attracted, it would be nothing good.

  But he’s a survivor, she thought. He had already done so much for their kind, and the captain knew he would be vitally important in the future. She still couldn’t believe some of the things he could do, and the claims of ALF that one day that same gene would be awoken in all of humanity. Not that there was much left now. Just over seven thousand humans had survived the genocide of their race.

  Not enough…

  Fey
hadn’t been entirely happy to leave them in the Raalak home system, especially with Laurence Wynter staying behind. The councillor was always scheming to assume more control and push the UDC element out of the picture. The captain had left Commander Malcolm Holland, her new second-in-command, behind, however, and she was confident in his ability to keep Wynter in line. Instead, Fey had brought councillors Sharon Booth and Jim Landale with her, as well as Lieutenant Worth.

  The captain caught her reflection in the glass and, not for the first time that day, stroked the olive skin below her left eye. She had first seen the difference in the mirror, after her morning shower, and marvelled at the smoother-looking skin. Fey was sure some of the wrinkles around her eyes had disappeared, along with the pain she had often endured in the base of her back - an old injury she had continuously overlooked.

  “Incredible…” Jim Landale came to stand next to her, breaking her reverie.

  Captain Fey followed his gaze to the stormy planet the Nautallon was currently gliding past. Spider-webs of blue lightning spread out across the red storm clouds in quick succession. Every layer of cloud was visibly churning from the north pole to the south, creating the illusion of liquid marble.

  “I have seen more beautiful sights in the last year than I have in my entire life.” Jim craned his neck to catch a lasting glimpse of the tumultuous planet.

  “I would give up every wonder in the universe to see Earth one last time…” Fey didn’t usually let her guard down, but time away from the UDC was slowly changing her. The captain had often wondered why her role was even needed anymore. It was usually around then that the human council would propose some new idiotic idea, and she realised how vital her guiding hand really was. If only she wasn’t so tired of it all…