Wave Mandate

by Schneider, A. C.

  “You heard the woman; no one so much as dips their toe past the edge of the gangplank.”

  “How are we supposed to pick up this… package then?”

  “It’s supposed to come to us.”

  Gowdy lowered his voice, “I’m not talking about the-”

  “I know what you’re talking about, Gowdy,” Urmston hissed, slapping a palm to his forehead. C’mon people, think.

  Gowdy turned and looked up toward the camera, “Well, how long do you expect me to wait here for this package?”

  Pause.

  “Captain?”

  “Till the dolly gets here.”

  Gowdy threw up his arms in protest. “Great plan by your new Academic friend. Remind me to compliment him while I wring his neck with my conveniently Ipsidian-free hands.” He returned to watching the skybridge. Urmston ignored him, sat down and waited, staring at the feed. After several minutes Wollo tapped Gowdy on the shoulder and indicated something in the distance.

  “Moment of truth, Cap,” said Gowdy. “We got movement up ahead.” The familiar sound all haulers recognize as readily as their own voices, the steady, grating call of squeaky wheels, reminiscent of the day-in/day-out grating monotony of life on a hauling job, could be heard getting louder by the second. Urmston slammed his fist on his armrest in frustration. Their dolly was being wheeled along industrial flooring and would soon be loaded onto the Ket Ket. Meanwhile, their other package was a no-show.

  Gowdy waited as the hooded figure made her way along the skybridge, somehow managing to keep the heavy contraption from getting away from her and wreaking general havoc as a result. At the last bit of stretch, the incline steepened some and the Prophet was pulled along, quick-stepping behind the dolly while leaning back and tugging in a useless attempt to slow it down. The dolly picked up speed on its collision course with the crewmen. Wollo held his ground, extending a massive stiff arm and catching the dolly on its upper rim, stopping it cold in its tracks.

  “Oh!” The Prophet exclaimed as she too was stopped short. She reached up to tuck several wisps of blond hair that had escaped from her hood back into place. Composing herself but keeping her head low, she said, “I believe this is what you came here for. Take it aboard and leave now. Do not wait around.” With that, she turned and headed back along the skybridge.

  “Hey, you’re welcome!” Gowdy shouted after her. The Prophet ignored him and continued on walking. Gowdy waved her off dismissively. Turning to Wollo he said, “Don’t worry about it, big man, I appreciate you. C’mon, let’s get this thing loaded up.”

  Urmston watched the pair push the dolly up the ramp and followed their progress on a second camera feed inside the cargo bay. They retracted the gangplank and wheeled the cart to the wall, fastening it in place.

  Urmston’s voice came through over the comm, heavy with disappointment. “Alright, back up to the bridge. Let’s get outta here.” Gowdy and Wollo left the bay and Urmston watched them enter the access corridor, but something caught his eye on the split feed back in the main hold. One of the flaps of the dolly was being pushed open from the inside. Excitedly, he flipped the comm switch again. “Back to the bay. Get back to the bay! I think we got our package after all.” Gowdy and Wollo exchanged confused looks before about-facing and hustling back to the main hold.

  Inside, a cloaked figure was struggling to climb free of the dolly. The two crewmen rushed over, Gowdy saying, “Let me help you out there,” while Wollo easily hoisted the small Prophet clear, setting her down gently.

  The Prophet gave a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much, really. I don’t know what I would have done-”

  “Our pleasure, kid.”

  Feeling much more accomplished than he did a minute ago, Captain Urmston ordered over the comm, “OK, people, party’s over. Escort our guest back up to the bridge. Won’t be long before they realize she’s gone.” Wollo motioned for the girl to follow him and the three made their way through the various sections of the Ket Ket. Urmston met them at the threshold to the bridge. “I’m Captain Urmston,” he said, introducing himself.

  “Analel.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, young lady. Please take a seat.” Urmston indicated his own chair and Analel sat down. “You met Gowdy and Wollo. This here’s Pedashaw.”

  “Nice to-.”

  “Pedashaw,” the Captain called, cutting her off, “Let’s fire her up and be on our way.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Analel read the tone of the atmosphere and understood she was expected to sit still and keep quiet, which she had every intention of doing. Just let me melt away into the background until you bring me to Kelerin, that’s all I ask.

  The skybridge disconnected from the hull and the entire ship vibrated as the engines kicked in. Pulling away from the docking station, Analel watched through the viewing glass as her entire world was suddenly reduced to play things. The Prophecy’s halls and corridors, its chambers and passageways, always seemed so endless when she would walk them, but from this height, her reality of so many years was nothing more than a tiny cluster of buildings she could block out with her thumbnail.

  “How long till we enter the Storm, Pedashaw?”

  “A minute forty, Captain.”

  “Hey kid,” Urmston called to Analel. She’d been sitting, staring out the glass with one eye shut and an outstretched arm, thumb sticking up in front of the other eye. When she heard the Captain call her name she self-consciously dropped her arm to her side and mumbled an apology. The Captain didn’t seem to notice her naive curiosity, having other things on his mind. “I’m assuming that Stormwatcher lady pays less attention to outgoing ships than to incoming ones?”

  Analel looked a little confused. “No, not really. The Stormwatcher sees everything in the Storm.”

  “I was afraid you might say that. Alright, switching to the backup plan.”

  “What’s the backup plan?” asked Analel.

  “You are.”

  Worry washed over her. “Me? What are you talking about?”

  “When we hit that field you’re going to have to convince the lady of the Storm not to fry our minds.”

  Urmston turned to Pedashaw. “Keep the throttle on full and engage the autopilot. We gotta make sure to break out of that Storm as soon as possible, conscious or not.”

  Analel was panicking, “But, Captain. I... I don’t know if she’ll listen to me!”

  “Unless you know how to fly this thing you better make sure that she does.”

  “15 seconds,” Pedashaw called out.

  “Captain?” Analel pleaded.

  Urmston looked at her gravely, treating her like one of his own crew. “Time to go to work, kid.”

  She tried to plead with him again but he was no longer paying her any attention, instead, bracing for whatever was to come next. Analel could have told him he was wasting his energy. Without the mind there was no willpower to stave off pain.

  And they entered the Storm.

  Lights flashed erratic and bright throughout the bridge. Like a knife stabbing straight through the frontal lobe all the way to the back of the brain stem, each and every crew member of the Ket Ket simultaneously clutched at the side of his head, dropping to the floor, writhing in agony. Only Wollo was silent, though his face contorted into the same strange shapes as the rest of the crew. Analel stood and looked around helplessly. Then she heard a familiar voice:

  “ANNIE! ARE YOU OK?”

  “Mother!” The surprise of hearing her real mother, Mother Erin, threw her for a moment, but the screams brought her right back down to reality.

  “ANNIE, DID THEY HURT YOU?”

  “No, mother. I’m fine. Mother, you have to stop this.”

  “ANNIE, WHAT’S GOING ON?”

  “I can’t explain now, there’s no time. Please, mother, you have to trust me.”

  “ANNIE, I KNOW YOU WERE TELLING ME THE TRUTH BEFORE. I’M SORRY I DIDN’T BELIEVE YOU. I TRULY AM AND I’LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU. BUT YOU DON’T
HAVE TO DO THIS. YOU DON’T HAVE TO RUN AWAY. I’M GOING TO IMMOBILIZE THESE MEN TEMPORARILY AND SEND A SHIP TO COME GET YOU. WE HAVE ISLAND GUARDSMEN AT THE PROPHECY NOW-.”

  “Mother, no! Please no. You have to trust me. I have to go with these men. I promise I’ll explain everything to you later, but for now, please, just trust me. If you want to make it up to me…”

  No answer. The screaming continued.

  “Mother… please.”

  Analel bit her hand as she watched the suffering around her, suffering she had been the cause of and was completely powerless to do anything about.

  “MOTHER!”

  As fast as it had started, it abated. The screams and the pain, completely gone, like it never happened. The Captain and the rest of the crew stood, astonished, not understanding why they felt no residual effects at all from that fleeting nightmare. They weren’t even breathing hard. They felt calm.

  “BE SAFE, MY CHILD. I LOVE YOU.”

  And the Ket Ket left the storm behind.

  Chapter 38: Finally

  The Habitat, Caras 4

  The Habitat had been quiet for a while now. After the battle between the Second Son and that Academic was over he knew his immediate danger had passed, but that didn’t mean there weren’t still other things present in the complex he wouldn’t have to worry about.

  For a good twenty minutes to half an hour he heard spurts of activity echoing throughout the matrix of corridors, bits and pieces filtering their way through to where he lay concealed. There was calling out between groups of Guardsmen to coordinate efforts. There was the occasional pulse burst discharged for reasons unknown, and some excitement about somebody having gotten away.

  Eventually, all the commotion receded from earshot until nothing was left but the sound of his own breathing. He’d told himself to wait for a full hour of undisturbed silence before coming out of hiding. One hour had turned into two. Time was now up.

  Sliding his legs out from between the ceiling and the shelf of piping he’d been lying on, he eased himself carefully over the edge and dropped down to the floor, his landing echoing loudly. Remaining in a crouch he listened for any reaction to the noise. None came. Standing, he walked silently through the rows of piping, his swollen ocular sockets, courtesy of his favorite skug, left him peering through slits, feeling his way along the walls. Progress was slow.

  He’d chosen one of the middle rows to hide in, believing the last few too obvious a spot and the first too exposed. It was a smart choice, buying him a few extra seconds and more than likely saving his life. Now, reaching the end of his row, he looked to his right, toward the back most rows where, if his hearing had served him correctly, was the area that the final confrontation between the Second Son and the mysterious Academic played out.

  His vision was blurred and the room was poorly lit. To top it all off, there was a cloud of steam shrouding the last stretch. Upon closer inspection he could see that the steam was pouring out of several damaged pipes on the back wall at the far end. On the floor below the damaged piping he thought he could make out the shape of a boot.

  He forced himself forward, legs still stiff from lying awkwardly on a hard bed of piping for so long struggling to keep themselves under him. In his excitement he managed to get ahead of himself the last few meters and tripped, diving forward and plunging into the billowing shroud of steam. He hit the floor hard, the sting leaving a numbing sensation on his hands and cheek. Wincing, he lifted up his head and found himself to have landed between the straddled legs of the Second Son sitting propped up against the far wall.

  He hoisted himself to his knees and stared into the lifeless eyes of the young Aberration leader. The pupils were dilated, giant voids waiting to be filled with answers about his brother, Bar-Kan, answers he could have provided. Too bad, he thought, not everybody gets their payday in the end. Not even members of the First Family.

  He looked down and found the Second’s hand still clutching the medallion, its smooth black surface peeking through the separations between fingers. Rigor had already set in and he had to pry the fingers open, a few snapping in the process and making a sickening sound that he tried not to think about. Once he had the medallion free, he lifted the cord over the Second Son’s head and claimed the prize for himself.

  Finally!

  He removed his helmet, slipping the cord around his own neck and tucking the medallion into his suit. Rising to his feet, he left the eyes of the Second Son, the failed brother, open, suspended in a state of tortured question, and walked away.

  It took several minutes but eventually he made it to the hangar bay. What he saw there made him freeze, uncertain. The place was a mini war zone. Pulse marks marred the walls and painted a mural of destruction, an ode to the memories of the bodies strewn haphazardly across the floor. Some of the ships were damaged in the action, mostly the Life Pods with their low riding chassis. The raiding ship appeared to be untouched.

  None of this was enough to shock him, he’d seen worse. What triggered his uncertainty was the sight of an Aberration standing two thirds of the way up the raiding ship’s ladder and staring down at another Aberration dragging himself along the floor.

  He recognized the man on the ladder from his interrogation sessions: Second in command of the Aberrations, right hand man of the Second Son - Cheserg, if he caught the name correctly.

  The other man was even more familiar to him: The man who actually conducted the interrogations, sucker punched him on the Liner, Ashpan - The skug.

  Ashpan was wounded, crawling along the floor, legs dragging uselessly behind. No sound came from his mouth, but it was open and one arm reached out toward Cheserg in a silent plea for help. Cheserg met Ashpan’s plea with cold detachment, as if being positioned up on the ladder above had severed any and all connections to a life once led down below.

  Suddenly, Cheserg looked over in his direction. For a split second, that debilitating feeling prey and predator alike get when spotted by the other, came over him. But something about the uncaring air of the squad leader suppressed the sensation. He realized Cheserg should not be alive right now. Every Aberration the Island Guard came across while sweeping through the Habitat was pulsed on sight. He’d remained out of sight and that’s why he was still alive. Cheserg must have done the same, and that didn’t make any sense.

  Aberrations were notorious for their brutality, but also for their diehard commitment to each other and for the fact that they didn’t fear death. That Cheserg was still alive meant betrayal of his fellow Aberrations. It spoke to the conscious abandonment of loyalty and principle during the fight. If fear wasn’t the reason, the only other possible explanation was that Cheserg no longer considered himself to be an Aberration.

  Betrayal was something very familiar to him and what he was seeing carried all its signs. Cheserg’s willingness to leave the crawling skug behind to die further strengthened his spot assessment. But ultimately it was all just theory, so he kept his eyes locked on Cheserg’s while making his way across the expanse of open hangar, just in case he misread the situation.

  His target was a Life Pod adjacent to the raiding ship that appeared more or less intact. He intentionally chose a route that would have him passing by Ashpan along the way. Coming up beside the skug, he bent down, never breaking eye contact with Cheserg, and removed Ashpan’s helmet. One last probing glance of the former squad leader’s eyes revealed no significant reaction. He tossed the helmet aside and out of reach.

  Ashpan, oblivious to his presence up until this point, now looked up, confused. Recognition set in, as did desperation, but still no sound came. The skug was broken. Cheserg didn’t seem to care. Definitely done with the Aberrations, he thought.

  Then, seeming to decide that everything worth seeing had already been seen, the traitor continued up the raider’s ladder and disappeared through the hatch.

  He followed Cheserg’s lead and made his way to his own ticket out of there, entering the pod and sitting down in the pilot’s s
eat, unzipping his suit at the neck and pulling out the medallion. The smooth black rock vexed him in the quiet surroundings of the pod. It seemed impossible that such a small thing could have plagued him so. And yet, ever since he came across the medallion it had been dictating his fate, influencing his actions. Now, here it was in hand, small, round, inanimate - by retrieving it he’d taken back control of his life.

  Well, almost. There was still one last thing to do.

  Through the viewing glass he saw the raider take off and he knew it was time for him to do the same. Firing up the pod’s engines, he ran through takeoff protocol. Space was tight inside the hangar but Life Pods were relatively small ships and that made maneuvering in the close quarters a far simpler task than it otherwise would have been.

  The pod lifted off the ground and he brought it around to face the open entrance. Hovering in place, he allowed himself one last look to see if he could spot the skug. Down below, Ashpan was making a valiant effort to crawl towards his helmet. It would take the man several minutes at this rate but it looked like he was going to make it, after all. The thought angered him, but he was used to life not taking his feelings into account, reminding himself of the thought he had while staring at the broken figure of the Second Son: Not everybody gets their payday in the end.

  However, just before hitting the throttle to leave the miseries of that cursed place for good, a red light flashed inside the hangar.

 

  Smiling for the first time in a long time, he thought, then again...

  Chapter 39: Promise

  Stormwatch - The Prophecy, Caras 1

  “I’m back, what’s the emergency?” asked Panthea.

  Elaina was helping Erin who already had one leg out of the Box. They both paused mid-action to exchange confounded looks.

  “How do you know about the emergency?” asked Erin, clearing her second leg over the rim. With Elaina watching her carefully, she hiked up her cloak and descended the stairs, not paying much regard to sure footing. Perhaps Elaina was being overly cautious, but with Erin’s current state of mind, she didn’t think so.