Shadow Seed 1: The Misbegotten

by Richard M. Heredia

  A long silence ensued. They were both immersed in thought. Who could’ve done this? Why? Who had the means? Who had funded a Fermonist and such advanced weaponry like the TARP? Who had compromised Dr. Ahmed’s security? What were they getting into?

  Flavia breathed a few heavy breaths, then sighed hugely. “They killed a lot of people, Eff.”

  He nodded, looking out the window, trying to find solace in the farms. He failed. “They’ll pay. We’ll find them and they’ll pay.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~♦~~~~~~~~~~~~

  ~ Chapter 3 ~

  (Earth Summer – 2385)

  The Aegis Synod

  Estefan Ernando, the Keeper of the Aegis Synod, sat there looking anywhere but at her – the wall, the floor – anywhere. It was taking every fiber in his body not to look. He didn’t want to make things worse. Why does this have to be so damned hard? Absently, he placed his hands upon his knees and slouched, a valiant attempt to hide the frustration, turning ever closer to anger. All I ever wanted was to sit aside and watch mankind hang itself upon a noose of its own making. Why do they ask me to remove the rope? I have no desire to do so! I will never help them! Never!

  An ancient thought came to mind and made his head come up of its’ own accord. I miss you, mama…

  She was waiting patiently, though she wasn’t his mother.

  His eyes found hers finally. He had to take a deep breath to keep his composure. She was sitting so complacent, calm, while inside his guts churned and clenched, powerful emotions of the present combined with primordial stirrings of the past. They made him sick. How could they ask this of me and my family?

  An hour earlier, they had screamed into the VIP section of parking bay 167, the signature of their Glide-car enough to gain them entry without human discourse. Estefan’s homing beacon took them directly to it. It hadn’t taken them long to access the mobile Null-unit, which looked no different than a Glide-hauler on the outside. It was what lay beneath the paint and the fake company logos that differentiated its’ true nature from everything else around it. It was formed from a compound so secret and so rare – not to mention expensive - only the highest echelons of society could afford it. Its’ technology was so incredible; the true reach of its application had yet to be realized. This was despite the fact it had been discovered back in 2074. All this time, only the Keeper and his Aegis Synod knew its secrets, only they profited from the enormous advantage technology of this sort could bestow upon its’ owners. It was Null-tech, a hybrid helix of conjoined elements that could thwart Muto powers – all of them. It was so vital to the Synod’s existence, it accounted for nearly fifty-seven percent of their annual profits. It made Diatainium mining look like pawn shop sales by comparison.

  Once one stepped within a confined space surrounded by this compound, they couldn’t be found. They were simply “nullified” from the world around them. Not even the greatest Fermonist could find them. He could be standing in the very next room or skulk beside a similar mobile Null-unit and never catch a single sense his prey were mere inches away. Null-tech was the skeleton that kept the Aegis Synod upright, if not uplifted, above all their competition. They guarded it with more firepower than all the terrible weapons conceived by the two superpowers during the age-old Cold War.

  The two of them had ditched their Glide-car, bolted for the rear of this new, wondrous vehicle. They had subjected themselves to the same sort of verification required of all Synod owned technologies and entered. Inside, they found themselves in a long room, apartment-like, complete with all the accoutrements therein.

  Once the door had sealed behind them, the Null-unit activated, invisible to the world. No one could hope to find them. They were gone.

  The Null-unit’s localized programming had kicked-in and the entire vehicles had lurched from its’ parking space and lumbered from the bay. Within minutes, it had joined the throng of traffic Angel Free Town was famous for having upon its’ thoroughfares, highways and sky-paths. It was just another Glide-hauler among millions, driving about the fifteen levels of the megalith.

  They had a minimum 24-hour stretch within this strange vehicle as it moved randomly about the city, choosing to go where it wished to go. When it’s’ ‘Swarm projected their situation was safe enough, or within allowable parameters, it would open. Where it would do so, they had no idea, because they had no internal control over the Null-unit. It would simply stop and open, giving them opportunity to disembark.

  Estefan wrenched his gaze from hers, his head bowed once more.

  She seemed to notice his discomfort was seeded deeper than the mere disagreement between the two of them, and a flash of concern echoed about her visage. Then, “Effy, why does all of this bother you so much? It’s not like we haven’t been through worse.” She wasn’t being facetious or sarcastic. She genuinely wanted to know.

  In silent anguish, Estefan’s hand cupped his bald head. He shook with the same sort of nervous energy filling him when he was on the verge of killing. “You do remember them, don’t you? Or maybe you’re becoming forgetful in your old age.” He couldn’t help the edge to his voice, so sharp it could cut. He was angry all over again. Sonofabitch!

  Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t insult me, because you can’t explain what you’re feeling. I’m on your side, you thick-headed mule, and I always will be,” she said forcefully, sitting on a chair opposite him, wrapped in a glow-shawl. It was a garment that provided both warmth and light to its wearer. It was the only luminance in the ten by forty meter chamber. It was the only heat as well, though temperature mattered little to him. Heavies were seldom affected by cold, or heat, for that matter. It had something to do with the imperviousness of their skin.

  He felt adequately chagrined at his outburst. She was, after all, right. She had been there on that day. She had been the one pulling him from the confused fog in his mind, getting him out of the line of fire, despite the carnage raging around them. She had been the only one thinking clear enough to act. It didn’t matter he’d been covered in blood, his victim laid sprawled on the tiled floor of the balcony, lifeless, headless. Flavia had come and got him the fuck out of there.

  “I’m sorry, Flavy,” he mumbled.

  “I know,” she began, “but you still didn’t answer my question…” Her brow lifted upon her forehead.

  He was silent for a long time, but she waited him out, determined to hear what he had to say. “I can’t reconcile the risk against the reward,” he murmured, looking away.

  “What risk?” she asked meaningfully, somewhat aware of the answer already.

  He replied at once. “I will not risk you or any of our family just because someone tells us if we don’t act, the human race will surely face extinction. How many times have we heard such nonsense in the past? I’m not a complete idiot.”

  She sighed wearily. “Estefan, I think you should consider the source this time before you go off making decisions as rash as that.”

  He didn’t answer, though his scowl deepened.

  Nevertheless, Flavia was determined. “Dr. Ball’s family and ours go way back, my dear, further than any of our other business partners. Our little transaction back then helped us both, tremendously. It gave him and his people the means to leave earth and colonize Europa, and it gave us the liquid funds we needed to insure our survival here on earth. Why would he come to us now, if he weren’t telling the truth about this new threat? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It would if you knew the nature of our past and were using it to manipulate the situation. It’s the perfect entry point; establish contact via a trusted source – a source that’s already been compromised,” explained Estefan as if he were talking to a four-year-old.

  The auburn-haired beauty shook with frustration. “You’re too darned paranoid. You’re going to give yourself an ulcer,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Oh, am I?” countered the Keeper, trying his best not to give her the dirty look threatening to blanket his face. Heavies don’t get ulcers!<
br />
  She ignored him, reaching down to unstrap her heels from her feet, groaning, as an abrupt wave of fatigue washing over her. She hadn’t been expected being this tired, but should’ve. It had been a long, grueling day, filled with too much destruction and death. How many had died on the Artery today? A thousand? Ten thousand? It was hard for her to think about. How could she not feel sorry for them?

  Estefan stared at her as she slowly massaged her feet, her long, slim fingers splaying long, thin toes. Her nails were polished black as usual, her fingernails colored the same, and, for a brief moment, he couldn’t tell what belonged to her foot and what belonged to her hand. Despite his ire over the topic of discussion, he felt himself harden. Is she trying to distract me on purpose? he thought out of the blue. He had a notion to let the idea anger him further, but he forgot it almost as quickly as it occurred to him. He had always loved Flavia’s feet…

  She continued for a moment longer, and then a wave of self-consciousness washed over her. She stared up at him from her slightly bent position, seeing a different sort of gleam in his eye. She knew it well, but decided to play dumb. They had been on the verge of a fight for much too long and it was growing bothersome. “What’re you thinking, Effy?” she asked in a low voice.

  “Though I have to admit that I like it, I’m thinking you’re intending to use every weapon in your arsenal,” he replied, his voice rougher than he wanted to convey.

  “You think I’m that crude?” she wondered, her tone the same.

  “I believe you’re that smart, Flavy. You always have been,” he admitted, though his eyes never left her hands as they continued to course over her lower extremities.

  She brought her hands to her knees.

  His eyes stayed glued to her feet.

  “I really don’t have to be anything, my dear. I could have you at any time and you could take me just as well. Neither of us would complain. So, why would I resort to such carnal games, knowing full well it wouldn’t change your mind…?”

  He laughed aloud, hard and from deep within his chest.

  Her smile lit up the room. The man she had once called brother, who she had loved for more years than she could remember, was back.

  “You’re good, Flavy. You are waaaay too good,” he grinned. It was his way of complimenting her for lightening the mood, though there was still a film of residual lust coating the manner in which he said it.

  She pulled something from one of the tiny pockets in her suit and began to pull her hair back away from her v-shaped face.

  He realized it was an auto-twining hair tie, and thought, she’s giving herself a ponytail. He liked her with a ponytail. It accentuated her long neck and thin-boned chin. You are so beautiful, Flavia, he felt himself think and decided being circumspect was a waste of everyone’s time. The reality of what she was always seemed to center him.

  “Truth be told,” he began, standing quickly, which made the chair he had been sitting upon squeak in protest. They both ignored it. “After what they did to us, they don’t deserve our protection.”

  Her eyes followed him, her brow furling. “That was a long time ago, Estefan, that government, everyone who represented it, they’re all dead. Shit, my dear, they’re probably all dust by now.”

  He shook with anger so intense it startled him. He hadn’t thought about the past – the far past – so long, he’d forgotten how much he buried below guilt and sorrow… and time. He’d tried with all of his might to forget, but somehow, some way, he couldn’t. They had no right to take my family! He balled his fists until they began to turn red-hot with the incredible pressure he was applying. It was another by-product of being a Heavy – one had to control how tight they held onto something. They could inadvertently squeeze it into pure energy, which typically wasn’t a good thing, especially when the energy was released.

  “I don’t think I care, Flavy,” he spoke through tight lips.

  She was at his side before he knew otherwise. “Oh, Estefan, you can’t do that to yourself,” she smoothed, touching his shoulder, but avoiding his fists. She knew they were lethal when he had them clenched so tightly.

  He turned away, though he slowly loosened the tension in his hands.

  To her, he looked ashamed at the display of raw emotion. “Maybe, we should call the others,” she prompted. “You need to hear from more than just me on this subject.”

  He turned back, under control. “Ok,” he said, reaching out to touch her cheeks with fingers still warm against her skin. “You are a better person than I am, Flavia. You always have been.”

  She smiled warmly and activated her Neuro-Nanoswarm; the thousands of nanites particles and motes came from all about the room at her bidding. It was time for the wives of the Aegis Synod to speak as one.

  *****

  Mena was the last to join them, and, with her arrival, the eight women comprising the centermost part of Estefan’s life were present. Well almost, their projections, at least, were before him as he sat in the Null-unit, nearly twenty minutes later.

  She smiled demurely at her tardiness, her big, brown eyes blinking rapidly beneath pencil-thin eyebrows, framed within long, flowing, ruddy-brown hair. The 360-tru-def projection depicted her as real as if she’d been standing there before him in person. She was far away, though, somewhere deep in the Jovian system, exactly where, he could only guess.

  She was five foot even, appeared no more than ninety-six pounds despite the fact she had borne Estefan more children than any of the other women present. Her figure wasn’t much altered after all the years he had known her either. The surreal agelessness of her gave it away. She was an Old-Timer as well. This was the case for all very old, Old-Timer’s – their inability to age always seemed to regenerate their bodies to somewhere between twenty-two and twenty-six years, regardless of what happened to them. No matter how grievous the event, if they lived through it, in time, they would regress back to the body type they had in those tender years. Their scars would fade and damage done flesh and bone would disappear, even the markings of child-birth would fade. It was amazing to think that Mena had given him eleven children and yet, there wasn’t a single blemish belying that truth. She looked no older than a junior in college, fresh from the library or the Student union or some study group. Reality was far from it – very, very far. Indeed, Mena was eleven years younger than him, but she was still over three hundred and seventy-three earth-years of age.

  She was petite, small breasted with round hips curving into a round, bubble-butt and wore an insulation suit. It was something one would wear underneath a Heavy-Enviro encasement when walking about a planet with more than three earth gravities. Wherever she was, she was near one of the gas giants, only their gravity wells and heavy radiation levels required such personal fortification.

  Estefan thought Mena was amazing all the same and he had loved every one of the eleven children she had given him. He nodded slightly in her direction and she beamed. Her nostrils flared below a proud ridge, her thick, pouting lips puckering to give him a “kiss”. He shook his head back and forth at her. Mena – no matter how bad things got – ever seemed to take anything too serious. She would rather joke or poke fun. She tried as much as she could to never let anything get her down. When something did sap her vibrant, light-hearted nature it made them all run to her, scared, for only the most dire things were capable of affecting her spirit in such a way. Her levity was her way of saying she missed him. How could he not smile back?

  At the same time though, he imagined all of them missed him to one degree or another. He missed them, after all. It had been some time since they’d all been together. The women before the Keeper were actually spread across the Solar System as was their protocol whenever their group was entering a dangerous phase. Since the meeting with Dr. Ahmed Carlos Ball had been deemed such, the Keeper had the girls – his girls - scattered before the wind.

  Only Flavia had been allowed to accompany him. Occasionally, it irked the others that they couldn’t be
beside him in times like this, but, in the end, each of them knew Flavia was his best protection. She was his weapon and his shield.

  At his side, the deadly vixen extinguished the fabric of her glow-shawl and the light (and heat) emanating from it vanished with a touch of her hand. They were momentarily plunged into darkness. Within a few heartbeats, the Null-unit auto-sensed conditions for its occupants weren’t optimal. It reacted. Low-level, phosphorus light began to pulsate along the upper corners of the elongated chamber, emanating along the inverted corner where the walls met the ceiling. They were bathed in pale blue, lighter color was washed out and darker ones turned into varying shades of black.

  He waited for the light to gain in intensity until its cerulean properties changed more or less to white, and the true hues around them returned. Of their own volition, he felt his eyes stray to Katie, who stood to leftmost from where he sat.

  She was staring back at him intently; her hazel eyes were almost glaring above the high cheekbones of her angular face. She had been emphatic about joining him and Flavia on this last mission. He had forbid it, which had pissed her off something fierce. She was about an inch taller than Mena and maybe weighed a handful of pounds more, but that was it. She was light skinned with shoulder length, blonde hair (a color she always wore when she was angry with Estefan. It was her way of protesting. She knew he hated that color on her, she had programed it thus on purpose). She was of a medium build with breasts fuller than Mena’s, though her hips were narrower, making her backside seem to protrude more, but the feature was more an optical illusion. She wore clothes as if she’d recently been aroused from bed, but he knew she hadn’t. She had deliberately stayed in bed all day, deliberately lazy, but deliberately alluring at the same time. Her way of saying to Estefan, “Look what you missed today…” The spaghetti strapped tank and fitted shorts clung to her curves so tightly, he could tell she wore nothing else underneath. He could see every bump, every crevice, every bulge – she left nothing to imagination.